CIA V: The Player on the Other Side
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: Part 5 of my CIA series. Carew is finally ready to call in the favor Tim owes him. Tim just hopes that he can survive it. 35 chapters, will post one per day.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is the fifth story in my CIA series. That means that there's a long back story to it that goes back, literally years. I'm not sure there's any way to give a brief summary in an author's note. In essence, Tim got roped into working for the CIA because of when Gibbs had him hack the CIA at the end of season 4. He's had nothing but grief ever since. This story features my OC, CIA Director Levi Carew (one of my favorite OCs, actually) quite heavily and will also have a relatively prominent role for Ray Cruz (Ziva's boyfriend). Because of when I started writing this story (season 5), Ziva is still there and so is Jenny Shephard as the director. I didn't see any reason to make changes in that respect. This is an AU story, but with everyone still as themselves, just with a different track for the stories. I hope that you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own NCIS or any of the characters from the show. I do lay claim to Levi Carew and the plots I've come up with. They're mine. :D But I'm still not making any money off them.

* * *

**The Player on the Other Side  
**by Enthusiastic Fish

_The chess-board is the world, the pieces are the phenomena of the universe, the rules of the game are what we call the laws of Nature. The player on the other side is hidden from us. We know that his play is always fair, just and patient. But also we know, to our cost, that he never overlooks a mistake, or makes the smallest allowance for ignorance. To the man who plays well, the highest stakes are paid, with that sort of overflowing generosity with which the strong shows delight in strength. And one who plays ill is checkmated-without haste, but without remorse._  
_Thomas Huxley_

**Chapter 1**

_Thirty years ago..._

They were sitting quietly, waiting for the word that the mission was on. They'd scouted the area, found their target and were ready to move. It was just a matter of being told they could go.

The door opened.

"Mission's off."

There was a chorus of groans, but only one stood up to protest. He was new to this op. He was relatively new to the CIA, and he had a very disconcerting stare when he chose to fix it on people. His eyes were basically black. It made him look unsettling at the best of times. When he was angry, people tended to be put off just by looking at him.

Like now.

"No!" he said. "There is a man in there who has been a prisoner for a year! We've been looking for him!"

"No. It was a mistake that _they_ made. They _think_ they have him, but they don't. It's a case of mistaken identity, and as long as they think they have him, we can keep searching."

Those eyes hardened, and he was not backing down.

"Who do they have then?"

"A grad student. Doing research."

His voice was very calm, very collected, but there was no mistaken his disgust.

"Do you mean to tell me," he said slowly, "that an American citizen has been tortured for a year for information he _does not have_ and we are supposed to just _leave_ him there to die?"

"Yes."

"No."

"These are orders. One man isn't as important as securing secrets that could fall into the wrong hands."

The eyes didn't move and the head of this group really wished that he would _blink_ or something.

"No," he said again. "You're not listening to me. I'm saying no. I refuse."

"You're going to disobey orders? These come from high up the chain."

"I don't care if it was the President. I will not leave this man in their hands."

"If you free him, they'll start searching again and this time they might succeed."

"I don't care."

"You'll go in alone?"

"If I have to."

Then, those disconcerting eyes shifted, but the shift gave no relief. Instead, he was skewering everyone in the room with the same stare.

"_Do _I have to? Is it necessary that I remind you all what we're being ordered to do? We are being ordered to abandon a citizen of our nation to protect a traitor. _That_ is what we are doing. We are putting the life of a traitor above that of a person who was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"And what if you go in by yourself?"

The eyes swung back to him.

"What about your wife?"

To his surprise, rather than looking worried or regretful, the man smiled. He _smiled_.

"I'll call her myself, if you'd like. Why don't I do that? I'll call her and say that I won't be going home again because I refused to abandon an innocent man but the rest of my compatriots decided it was better that way. I'll tell her that I didn't judge my life to be better than another's. I'll tell her to let my children know, when they're old enough to understand it, that their father died because _he_ hadn't forgotten what his job was even when everyone else had."

He pulled out his phone.

"You're compromising the mission."

"What mission? The mission's off, remember? I'm getting ready to go rogue. I'm sure I'll die in the attempt."

"You're bluffing."

Now, the eyes became so hard as to be almost flinty.

"I do _not_ lie." He held up his phone. "Should I dial the number or are we going to save an innocent man?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Make a decision," he snapped, as authoritative as if _he_ was the one in charge. "I don't have time for delays."

In an effort to get things back under control, he managed to look away from those eyes and focus on the others in the room.

"There's no leeway here," he said. "If we save this man, we are risking the security of the nation."

"If we leave this man behind, we are betraying everything our country stands for."

The leader glared. He didn't like being undermined...but he could also see the resistance in the others on the team, men who had been under his command for much longer. They were being swayed to think of another option. ...and truth be told, _he_ didn't like it himself. But he could see the big picture.

"It appears we have some disagreement about the nature of following orders."

"Whose orders are they?"

Another challenge. He wasn't giving up. He wouldn't even let the one who led the op speak more than a sentence.

"Does it matter?" he asked, and instantly knew he'd made a mistake by engaging.

"No, actually, it doesn't matter at all...because we're the ones who are here. _We_ are the ones who can see what's going on, not some busybody living in safety in the States. _We_ can see that the orders are wrong. _We_ can make a decision as to the appropriate course of action."

"And pay the price?"

"Of course."

That surprised him. He had expected him to say that there wouldn't be a price or some other half-baked lie.

"Of course?" he asked.

"Yes. There will be a price. I'll take it all on my head if it's necessary. The black mark can be in my record. It'll be my idea. The blame will fall on me." _...and the credit._ The words weren't spoken, but they might as well have been. If it was decided that it was a good idea, this newbie would get the credit for having a greater vision. ...but if it was decided that it was a mistake, then the newbie would get more leeway than someone else.

"Sir?"

Another voice. Someone else's eyes. Thank goodness.

"What?"

"I don't like disobeying orders, but I don't like the idea of leaving someone suffering in there just because of the chance to find someone else."

"You all feel that way?"

Silent nods.

"All right. Let's move."

"You want me to take point?"

Back to the insolent, frightening eyes.

"No. My team. My lead."

"Of course." He even gestured to let him go first.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

They moved in with practiced ease. There was no rush. They moved quickly, but not rushing.

It was over quite quickly. Not much in the way of surveillance. Not enough in the way of guards. Definitely not enough for this crew who knew what to do and had been watching the place for weeks.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The door burst open, but the occupant barely moved. He'd long since passed the point where he reacted to anything but pain.

"Hey."

...until he heard an American voice. His eyes lifted up to man towering over him, armed to the hilt but smiling.

He couldn't speak.

"I'm here to get you out. What did they do? What shouldn't I touch?"

The words didn't really penetrate at first...but the removal of all his chains did. He hadn't been freed for months, although he didn't actually know the span of time that had passed.

"Out?" he asked vaguely.

"Yes. Out. What's your name?"

These weren't questions that he was used to. This man was asking questions he actually knew the answers to.

"Woodrow Hicks," he whispered. "Really. That's my name."

"I know it is. Where do you hurt the most?"

"Falaqa," he whispered.

"I'm sorry. Anything else?"

He shook his head, not really believing that the nightmare of his life was over.

"I didn't know. I would have told them if I knew, but I didn't know. I don't know! I don't know!"

"I know you don't. It's all right."

"Your eyes are black."

The eyes twinkled a little as the man smiled. "I know. I've seen them. You ready to get out?"

"Out."

"Yes. I promise. This isn't a lie. This isn't a trick. I don't lie. It will probably hurt, but we'll get you out."

"No."

"Yes."

Arms reached down and wrapped around him, pulling him upright for the first time in who knew how long. His feet screamed out in pain. Once they had crushed his feet and then let them "heal"...before resuming the falaqa which would always be the worst. He was pulled off the table, but he was surprised at how gently it was done. The pain was awful, but that was his life. Pain. It was the gentleness of the treatment he was getting in spite of the pain that was always there. He kept looking over at the man pulling him down the hallway, out of his world and into...

"Light," he whispered.

"Yes. It'll be a nice day when the sun comes up."

"Sun..."

"Yeah."

There were other voices. Shouting. Shapes running this way and that, but always steady forward motion...and all that mattered to Woodrow was the voice of the man carrying him, the arms that were taking him out of his nightmare and into a dream.

"You're out, Woodrow Hicks. You're free. We're going to take you home."

Woodrow didn't believe it, but he kept staring into those black eyes.

"I don't lie. I promise. I don't lie. Ever. You're free. You're going home."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I'm going home."

"Yes. I promise."

"What's _your_ name?" he asked.

The black eyes twinkled once more.

"Levi Carew."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Woodrow Hicks was shipped off to a secure hospital and then back to the States. Carew was glad of it. He knew he faced some consequences, but he didn't care.

"Carew!"

And here were the first ones. Carew crafted the expression of polite interest that always seemed to put people off. He supposed it was his eyes. He'd hated them when he was younger, but he liked them now. They were useful.

"Yes?"

"Why did you insist on this? I'm already taking flak about it."

"Tell them it's my fault."

"And let them know I allowed a newbie to change my mind?"

"Not if you tell it in the right way."

"I thought you didn't lie."

"I don't," Carew said, his voice hardening. "But you can tell it right without lying."

"Oh, really? Enlighten me."

"You went in to keep your headstrong, stubborn new agent from getting himself captured or killed because he refused to listen to reason."

"And that's not a lie?"

"Did you really want to risk me getting taken?"

Silence. Carew smiled.

"I didn't think so. I got what I wanted."

"Why are you working for the CIA?"

"I was recruited."

"Why? Why were _you_ recruited?"

"I don't think I'm going to tell you that."

"Why not?"

"I don't trust what you'll do with the information."

"You can't keep secrets from everyone."

"It's either everyone or no one."

"Including your family?"

"Especially including them."

"That'll leave you alone."

"I'm aware of that. So is my wife. ...but if I don't tell her, then no one can demand it of her."

"Who are you?"

Carew smiled. "I'm Levi Carew."

"You have a lot to learn."

"About what?"

"About how things work. You risk too much."

"That's the game. I'll live longer than you, and I'll go farther. Not because I want to, but because I will."

"Why?"

"Because I need to get rid of people like you in the CIA who forget what our real job is in lieu of what you _think_ our job is."

"What is our real job, then?"

"To protect the country...and the people make up the country. The country is nothing without people like Woodrow Hicks. We are supposed to have integrity, and you have none. You put your career and keeping it ahead of doing what you know is the right thing to do."

"And you think that your policy of not lying will get you further?"

"Yes. I'll live to regret your death."

"You threatening me?"

"No. I don't think I'll need to kill you. Your attitude will get _you_ killed while mine will help me survive."

"You're dreaming."

"I see myself as a visionary."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The office door closed.

"Have a seat, Agent Carew."

"Yes, sir," Carew said. He'd got what he wanted, and now he didn't care what happened.

"You potentially screwed up a lot of people's plans."

"Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"Because I was right and they were wrong."

"It's not about right and wrong."

"Yes, it is," Carew said. "Just because you don't believe it is, doesn't mean you're right. What I did was the right thing to do."

"And if the man you were _supposed_ to find sells what he knows?"

"Then, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it."

"And that's worth it to you?"

"Yes."

"Levi, I recruited you myself, and I don't regret that, but if you want to make it here, you're going to have to learn a few things."

"Like what?"

"Your idea of not lying is going to be difficult."

"No, it won't. People who lie think it will be, but it won't be."

"But there's something else."

"What?"

"You're going to have to learn the political game."

"Why?" Carew asked. "I don't want to be a politician."

"But you have to be. If you really want to change things, you'll have to be a politician. You have to know how to manage people."

Carew smiled. "I didn't do too badly this time."

"One agent who probably didn't like the orders he'd been given in the first place."

"You're saying it'll be harder?"

"Yes."

Carew considered it. "Why me?" he asked. "Why did you recruit me? I'm not the normal kind of agent."

"You're only asking this now?"

"I didn't really think about it until I was asked and couldn't answer. My wife asked at the beginning, but I didn't care about it then," Carew confessed. "I don't like not knowing."

"I recruited you because we need people like you in the CIA. People who have a different outlook, who will make us question our preconceived notions about how things have to be run. You might be different enough to make a difference."

"So you really want me to do things differently?"

"If you can manage it."

Carew smiled. "You don't know what you're asking."

"Nope, I don't, but I'll be long gone before you can really change things."

"You don't want to see what I can do?"

"I'm interested in what you can do, but I don't want to go through the process. I'm old school." He sobered. "And I don't want to see how it changes you."

"Too late for that. I'm already different."

"Part of me is sorry for it."

Carew grinned. "I would only have been an average teacher anyway. At least here I can make a difference...especially with what I've seen when you've sent me out. I don't like how they think...and if I can change that..."

"This place has a way of changing _you_."

"I know...but if the change is mutual, I'll be okay."

"And this man you saved? Was he worth it?"

"It's always worth saving someone if you can...even if it means that I pay for it for the rest of my life."

"You might."

"I know that better than you do," Carew said. "When are you retiring?"

"Next couple of years...if I live that long."

"When you're gone, no one will know who and what I am. All the better. Is that everything?"

"Yes. Consider yourself lectured, and the note is in your file."

"Good. I want it there."

"You have a few days off. What are you going to do?"

"Spend it with my family while I can."

Carew stood and left the room. He called the hospital where Woodrow Hicks had been taken. His family was there and he was starting on the process of recovery. Good.

He spared a thought to the traitor who was still at large. He had taken a huge risk, but he didn't regret the risk. He would regret it if his choice led to danger for the country. Otherwise, he didn't care.

At least, that was what he told himself as he went home to play with his children.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Present..._

The gunfire faded away. On the surface it was a good thing, but in reality, it was bad. That meant they were done shooting indiscriminately and were now engaged in purposeful pursuit. Her team was either dead or scattered to the four winds. She had to assume they were dead. It was too dangerous to think otherwise. She just had to have time to get to a phone and make one call. She needed thirty seconds in one place and then it didn't matter too much what happened. Granted, she wanted to get away, but she was outnumbered and knew it.

An alley going in the right direction. Perfect. These old alleys were like a maze and it was easy to get lost if you weren't familiar with the place. She was, but not enough. Not when she was on the run.

A house. It looked empty. Quickly, she swung into the open window and ran for the stairs. Generally, running up to a higher point was not the smartest move in trying to get away, but in a place like this, it was possible to jump from building to building in some areas.

She saw a phone. Did she have thirty seconds? She'd have to risk it. She grabbed the phone and hid in a dark recess of the second floor.

"_Receiving emergency code."_ The verification took two precious seconds. _"Proceed."_

"Lauren Black. Special message for Ciad. The dust is in the wind. Take steps necessary. Team compromised. Likely dead."

She heard them come inside the house.

"Capture is imminent. Signing off."

She disconnected as a silhouetted shape appeared. Quickly, she threw the phone against the wall as hard as she could and then fired her weapon.

She knew it wouldn't be enough to hold them off. There were too many. She didn't have a chance.

She was right.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"...and most of the time, I'm really feeling okay, but still, I have these...these moments where I still want to push everyone away to protect them, to keep them from facing the kinds of things I've had to face."

Tim sighed and cracked his neck...and then he grinned at Dr. Hicks' wince.

"Sorry."

"I've never understood people who can do that and enjoy it," he said. "Now, Tim, when you try to push them away, what happens?"

Tim smiled. "Usually, they get irritated at me and then force me to hang out with them."

"And do you enjoy yourself?"

"It depends on the day."

"So what makes the difference?"

Tim thought about it.

"I think...it's how much I'm thinking about...other things."

"Like?"

"I can't run full-out without my feet hurting. There's still some pain there. I'm...afraid that this is the best it's going to be. Then, too..."

"Carew."

"Yeah. I don't think about it all the time, but...it's still there, and it will be until he calls in the favor I owe him. I wish that he'd just tell me."

"He probably doesn't know himself, you know."

"I know. Doesn't mean I like it."

"I know, and you don't have to. What does your physical therapist say about your feet?"

"That I shouldn't assume there's nothing more to gain."

"Why don't you believe him?"

"Because I'm afraid of being disappointed," Tim said with a rueful smile.

"Remember, Tim, that you have to risk that. You've risked a lot and it's come through for you. Don't be afraid of that. And when the inevitable day comes, you'll find that you're equal to it."

"You're so much more confident than I am."

"Well, I don't have to do it," Dr. Hicks said with a smile.

Tim laughed a little.

"What really scares you about all this, Tim?"

"I'm scared that..." Tim took a deep breath and looked to the side. "I'm scared that I won't make it this time around, that I won't be surviving whatever it takes."

"You're scared of dying."

"Yeah."

"You know what, Tim?"

"What?"

"That's good."

Tim laughed. "Why?"

"Because, of all the things that could worry you, that could scare you, that could make you dread Carew calling you out for duty...what frightens you is the possibility of death. ...and guess what, Tim. A lot of people are scared of dying."

"I guess."

"Believe me, Tim. Lots of people don't want to die."

"I know."

"Don't be afraid of that kind of fear...unless it's paralyzing, keeping you from doing what you need and want to do."

"It's not. It's just kind of there."

"I can't make that go away, unfortunately. ...but if you feel it's a problem, we can try to work through it."

"Maybe next time."

Dr. Hicks laughed. "Okay. Don't stress about what you can't change. Focus on what you can."

"That's my new mantra?"

"Sure, if it works."

"Thanks."

Tim got up to leave.

"One last thing, Tim."

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I'd be overstepping my bounds by saying this. Carew doesn't want you dead, either. If you're called on, it will be because he needs your help. It will _not_ be for you to become a sacrifice. He won't hesitate if it's necessary...but only if it's necessary."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Two days later..._

"_Director Carew...uh..."_

"Yes?" Carew asked. "What is it?"

The hesitancy was almost entertaining. It meant that his new assistant had been confronted with something he didn't know how to deal with. He was more than competent which meant it was unexpected.

"_Levi, you'd better let me in there."_

Ah. That's what it was.

"Let her in."

"_Yes, sir."_ The relief was palpable. _"Go on in, ma'am."_

The door opened two seconds later.

"Hello, Tamara."

Tamara was furious but only on the surface and Carew reacted in the same way he always did.

"You mind telling me _why_ you sent random spooks to my house to tell me that you've lost your daughter?"

"They weren't random spooks. They happened to be two of my best agents."

"Don't change the subject. What about your daughter?"

"_My_ daughter? I thought both of us were pretty heavily involved in her conception. I _know_ you were there when she was born."

"Don't start with me, Levi. I'm not in the mood. Why didn't _you_ tell me?"

"You know very well why," Carew said. "Would you like to sit?"

"No. I would like to know what you're going to do to get our daughter back."

"So she's _ours_ now?"

"Levi!" Tamara exclaimed. She was as upset as he'd seen her in years.

"I will do the same for our daughter as I would for any one of my agents like her."

"I don't want you to do the same. I want you to do more."

"At least you're honest about it."

Tamara sat down heavily. "Levi, she isn't just one of your agents. She's your own flesh and blood. Can't you _care_ about your daughter?"

Carew leaned forward, clasping his hands together. This was an old conversation, one that was brought up again and again even though the answers never changed.

"No. I can't, and you know very well why, Tamara. You knew going into it. You said you could handle it. I never pretended that things could be any different. You said you understood."

"I lied."

Carew smiled. "I know. I knew before you did that it wouldn't work, and I told you so."

"Emotions aren't a crime."

"Emotions can be exploited by anyone, anywhere. Even here in my office. You are attempting to use guilt to make me react in the way you feel is appropriate, and you're trying to force me to use some kind of familial love to get me to do more than I should. ...and you, of all people, should know that it won't work. You've tried it often enough with the same failing results."

"No one else does things this way."

"That you know about."

"And you couldn't even come to your own son's funeral."

"No, I couldn't. It wouldn't have helped matters."

Tamara looked at the ceiling and swore softly. "You've ruined my life."

"I may have had a hand in it, yes."

"I couldn't even get a boyfriend that wasn't vetted."

"Of course you couldn't, and if you hadn't insisted on knowing about it, you would never have known. Many of the men you dated would have made you happy, but you weren't willing to take someone with the CIA stamp of approval." He paused. "I was never involved in the searches, you know."

"I only know that because you said it, and I know you're not lying." Then, the anger was back. "Don't you do this to me, Levi. I've already lost one child. I only have one left...at least when you deign to let her be mine."

"I never encouraged _either_ of our children in their aspirations."

"You didn't stop them."

"No, I didn't."

"I'll never forgive you for that."

"I know."

Tamara got to her feet. "If Brianna dies, if she's already dead...the deal's off."

Levi also stood...and took away her attempt to have the upper hand. It was so easy to do that he did it without even thinking, knowing how she would feel.

"It may already be null in any case. It's been a long time since we made that deal. Reality is what it is. All the wishing in the world can't change it."

"Are you going to get her back?"

"Like I said, I'm going to exert the same effort I would for any agent like her."

"I hate you," Tamara said. Then, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the office.

Carew sat down again and stared after her.

"I wish you really did, Tamara," he said to the empty office.

His phone buzzed.

"_Sir?"_

"Yes?"

"_Should I have sent her away? She didn't have an appointment but she seemed to assume that she could..."_

"She is the one person you will _always_ admit to my office. No matter what. Even if I'm not in here. She always has access."

"_Why? ...if I can ask that, sir."_

Carew smiled. The answer wouldn't make any sense to anyone outside of himself and Tamara.

"She's my ex-wife."

"_...oh."_

"That will be all."

"_Yes, sir."_

He said that, but he had only a few seconds of silence before there was another buzz.

"_Sir, they've managed to decipher the message from Lauren Black. They have it on secure feed."_

"And?"

"_And the message is for you, sir. She mentioned you, but no one knows what she means."_

Carew smiled. "That's because the message isn't for anyone else. I'll be right over to listen to the message."

"_Yes, sir."_

Carew headed to the Support Room. Sometimes, he found the innocuous names chosen for the different areas of the CIA to be rather entertaining. The Support Room was the center for receiving and deciphering messages sent by operatives. It was also where messages were encoded and sent _to_ operatives in the field.

In this case, Carew was going to hear the message left for him by Agent Black. He rolled his eyes as he thought of the name. She seemed to enjoy the name changing.

"Director!"

People always seemed surprised to see him, although he could acknowledge that he wasn't out and about in McLean like he had been in the past.

"There was a message for me?"

"Yes. It took us a couple of days. The code wasn't usual and it didn't come from the usual channels. We had to check to make sure that it was genuine. The source was listed, but we don't know who it's from."

"Let me see the source code, Mr. Domen."

"Yes, sir."

He brought up the original message and Carew looked at it. He smiled and nodded.

"Yes. I know who it's from. Go on."

"Okay. Good. Well, the message was hard to decipher. We didn't have the end code for the cipher and it was not one we've used in a long time. In fact, I don't think that particular cipher had been used for..."

"About thirty years?" Carew suggested.

"How did you know, sir?"

Carew just smiled.

"Well, we got it deciphered and the source actually added an extra message, embedded in the signal."

"Interesting. Let me hear the original message."

"_Lauren Black. Special message for Ciad. The dust is in the wind. Take steps necessary. Team compromised. Likely dead. Capture is imminent. Signing off."_

Carew nodded. ...and for a fraction of a section, his famous shell cracked. The only person in the room didn't see it...and then all was back to normal.

"And the embedded message?"

"It's longer and the cipher was a new one."

"Play it for me."

The male voice was familiar.

"_Visually verified. Whole team is dead. Black captured alive and taken. Tracking impossible from current location. I have made use of a local contact to begin inquiries. If you want me to actively track her down, you will need to give instructions. I expect torture."_

The message ended abruptly.

"That's it, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Domen."

"Where do I file this, Director? There's no mission on record for Agent Black."

"File it under...Miscellaneous."

"Are you serious?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Domen. You'll find that the Miscellaneous file has very little in it."

Carew turned and left the Support Room. He stopped outside his office.

"I want you to contact Deputy Director Morgan and tell him to drop whatever he is doing as soon as possible and come here."

"Any reason that I'm giving him?"

"He'll know and he won't ask for a reason."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you."

Carew went into his office and closed the door. There were a lot of plans that had to be made now. He worked fast, but he had to work faster than usual...and he had to make a decision.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim limped to his desk and sat down.

"Man, McGee. You didn't have to take off after that guy, you know. Ziva and I were both there."

Tim leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

"I didn't stop to think. I just ran. I wish I hadn't."

"Is it bad?" Ziva asked.

"Not...horrid, but I'm not running anymore today. I think I won't walk for a little bit, either."

"What happened?" Gibbs asked, eyebrows up high on his forehead.

"Well, Boss, we were looking through the Mendoza house and guess who showed up unexpectedly."

Gibbs just raised his eyebrows up even higher.

"Corporal Mendoza's ex-boyfriend. He saw us and took off running."

"And so did, McGee," Ziva said.

"And?"

"And I'm not ready for a chase, I've discovered," Tim said.

"He did catch Ensign Blais," Ziva said.

"And Tony and Ziva had to come back and get me after they got Blais to the car."

Gibbs smiled.

"I think he could have made it himself, but he _was_ hurting a bit."

"Blais?"

"He's waiting for your unique touch, Boss."

Gibbs nodded and got to his feet.

"Tim?"

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Don't push yourself too hard. It's not going to help."

"Understood, Boss."

Gibbs strode out of the room and left his agents behind. Tim sighed.

"Is it that bad, Tim?" Tony asked.

"The ache is going away now. I'll have to tell my physical therapist that...I exerted myself."

"It's going to be okay, Tim," Tony said. "Really."

"I hope so. I really hope so," Tim said softly.

There were just too many things that could go wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Well, Levi...I must say that I wasn't expecting to hear from you. Not like this."

Carew smiled. "I know, Roy. I had hoped it wouldn't be necessary."

"So...how serious is it going to be?" Roy asked. In spite of the situation, he couldn't help smiling.

"You're not sure I'll be getting out of it."

"That bad?"

"Yeah."

"Can you tell me why it is that the Director of the CIA is doing this?"

"I never really wanted to be the Director anyway."

"Then, why not give it up?"

"No offense, but there's no one I trust to do the right thing."

Roy chuckled. "Thanks."

"Oh, you have promise, but you're not ready."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"This will be your first test. Can you keep things up while I'm gone?"

"Do I have to be in your office?"

"Actually, you probably will want to _avoid_ my office. I'm guessing that Tamara will show up and she always has access."

Roy nodded.

"I'll stay in my own office. How many people get to know about this?"

"Ideally, no one. The more who know, the more who will. If the President asks, you can tell him."

"So I can lie to everyone else?"

"You don't have to lie, but the story is going to be misunderstood by the public...if the public will even pay attention."

"You don't think that the head of the CIA being in a life-threatening car accident will be noticed?"

"It might...for a day or two, but you'd be surprised at how little the public really cares if the CIA isn't doing something _wrong_. Injury? Possible death? They don't care. A mistake made? A piece of evidence misinterpreted? Oh, they're all over that."

"Do I detect some heretofore unheard cynicism, Levi?"

Carew smiled. "No. This is just reality. Dedicating one's life to the preservation of a nation that doesn't actually appreciate it in any way requires awareness of one's situation. I couldn't have handled all this if I wasn't fully aware of that."

"So...can you tell _me_ what it is that you're doing?"

Carew leaned back in his chair and looked at Roy for a long, speculative moment. It wasn't that Roy wasn't trustworthy. It was more that Carew didn't want to spread this around to any degree.

"I'm fixing a mistake I made thirty years ago. Beyond that, it'll have to wait."

"So how long do I give you until I should assume a fatal failure?" Roy asked.

"At least a month. Can you last that long fending people off?"

"I'm sure I can. What about Tamara?"

"If she asks, you can tell her what you know. Don't lie."

"Ah. Now, I see why you're not telling me anything. You really think Tamara will show up here?"

"I can almost guarantee it. She'll notice it even if no one else does."

"Will you be out of country?"

"Yes. Most definitely."

"Do you need your plane?"

"No. I have...other connections I'll be using."

"Will I need to tell our people to look the other way?"

"No. If they see us, we deserve to be seen."

"Understood. Good luck, Levi."

Carew got up and headed to the door.

"Good luck to you, Roy. This may end up being a promotion for you."

"That dangerous?" Roy asked seriously.

"More than likely...mostly because I have an ulterior motive."

"When is this going to start?"

"Give me a couple of days. You'll get the warning before the accident happens."

"So there really will be an accident."

Carew smiled and nodded. To his surprise, Roy walked to him and held out his hand. Carew wasn't surprised very often. He read people like books, and he had thought he had Roy completely pegged. He shook his hand.

"If the worst happens, Levi, I've learned a lot about what it means to be a part of the CIA from you and I prefer your outlook to that of the other old-timers."

Carew didn't respond beyond a firm handshake. Still, it was almost a vindication of a lifetime of sacrifice. One man who had risen through the ranks and decided that he liked the way Carew ran things. That meant that someone would carry on his methods.

Then, Roy left the office, off to prepare the PR statement about the CIA Director's car being in a possibly-fatal accident. That would be nothing less than the truth. Worded correctly, no one would notice that the CIA Director wasn't mentioned as actually being _in_ the car at the time. The car would be totaled. The driver would be unharmed.

In the meantime, Carew had plans to make. He made a mental note to contact his driver and get that all set up. That wasn't the big part of the problem. There were other plans that had to be made, people he would have to talk to, equipment to appropriate. It had been thirty years and even Carew had begun to hope that what he had feared all those years ago would never come to pass.

Then, he smiled, a little cynically. Tim may not know it, but he was hoping for the same thing because Carew had already decided that the only reason he would have to call on Tim's help would be for this. In this case, he had other things he was going to do as well. He hadn't lied to Tamara. He would do the same thing for Brianna that he would do for any other agent like her.

He only had one agent who was his daughter and, therefore, he would act differently for his daughter than he would for any other agent. She had been part of a team checking out rumors and the rumor had been verified. There would be an attempt to rescue every agent if it were feasible. Only for his daughter would Carew set aside the feasible requirement, but he couldn't risk any of his agents on something like this. It would have to be him...and a few others who owed him favors. ...and one man with nothing to lose.

For the moment, Carew started to plan out his path. Something as risky as what they would be doing couldn't be done spontaneously. He was as careful with something like this as he would be with any other situation.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_One day later..._

Woodrow Hicks stretched his hands over his head and enjoyed the feeling of knowing that his day was over. He loved the work he did and wouldn't trade it for anything, but working for the CIA was a whole different ball of wax from any other kind of therapy he could have practiced.

He got to his feet and limped to the door. He knew that there would come a time when he would have to rely on a cane to get around. Still, he counted himself lucky. He could have been so much worse off, and, in a way, he was grateful for the pain he still felt. It reminded him, every single day, of what his life could have been like. He would never take his life for granted.

"Sherry, are we done for the day?" he asked his assistant.

Sherry looked up and smiled. "Yes. Tyler had to reschedule. Debriefing is taking longer than he'd planned."

Woodrow smiled knowingly. "I'm sure he's broken up about that, too."

"Of course."

"Then, you might as well head home. I have a few files to go over before I'm done tonight."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"All right. See you tomorrow, Doctor."

Woodrow nodded and then limped back into his office and over to his file cabinet. His back to the door, he started searching for one of his old files. He had a returning patient from years before. It had been someone who had called up out of the blue and asked to resume their meetings. That didn't happen particularly often for someone with Woodrow's clientele.

Then, the door opened behind him.

"Sherry, did you decide you want the overtime?"

"I don't think anything she does here is worth staying overtime for."

Woodrow smiled at the voice. His favorite patient...for all the difficulty there was in dealing with him. Carew was the only person who didn't try to avoid the required meetings. He was meticulous in coming.

"I didn't think we had a session today, Director," he said without turning around.

"We don't, Woodrow."

That was the clue. He turned around and limped to his chair.

"What is it, then?" he asked.

Those impenetrable black eyes revealed nothing as Carew sat down across from him.

"I want to ask your professional opinion regarding someone you and I both know."

"Tim McGee."

"Precisely."

"You know I won't reveal any details of our sessions, Levi," Woodrow said. "That's something I won't do. Not even for you."

"I wasn't going to ask. Merely an assessment based on your knowledge. I want no details."

"An assessment of what?" Woodrow asked.

"In your opinion, is he ready to work with me again?"

Woodrow felt his heart sink. He had known this day would come at some point. Carew didn't make deals without carrying through on the deal. That was part of his meticulous honesty that threw so many people off.

"Why?"

"Obviously, I want to work with him."

"You mean that you need to use him."

"Yes."

"And there's no other way?"

"Not in this case."

Woodrow took a breath and let it out.

"You like him," Carew said with one of his non-smiles. "You're not just his psychiatrist."

"I wouldn't say we're friends exactly, but yes, I do have more than a professional concern for his welfare. He won't like this. I know you know that, but I want to remind you of it."

"I'm aware. Is he capable of it?"

"Isolation?"

"Of necessity, yes."

"Long duration?"

"More than likely."

"Dangerous?"

"Yes. Very."

"He's not physically-recovered yet, you know. His feet still bother him sometimes."

"I've kept tabs on that. He can walk and if the need arises, he can run."

"Will the need arise?"

"Possibly, but if we do have to run, we'll probably die anyway. I'm not worried about his physical ability. I'm worried about his mental."

"And you want an honest assessment."

"Of course. I wouldn't have asked if I wanted you to lie."

Woodrow nodded. He didn't want to force Tim into this situation but neither could he genuinely deny what Carew was asking for.

"Before I answer your question, answer one of mine."

"Depends on what it is."

"Why Tim? He's skilled, of course, extremely skilled, but why not someone else? I know you have others in your hip pocket. You don't have to use him."

"Yes, I do."

"Why?"

"Because Timothy McGee understands me. He is someone I can rely on in any situation once we've begun. He won't give up in the middle, and should the worst happen, he wouldn't leave me behind."

"Not even to save his own life?"

"No. I will have his best efforts in every case, and I will need his skills as well. He is the one I need and the only possibility for what I'm doing."

"What _will_ you be doing?"

"Fixing a mistake I made."

"When?"

Carew smiled again. "Thirty years ago."

Woodrow nodded. "When you saved me."

"Yes."

Woodrow had always known that there was something that had been done that wasn't quite right. Once he was in his right mind again, it hadn't made any sense for an elite squad from the CIA to swoop in and rescue a nobody graduate student.

"And this has to be done?"

"Yes. Your assessment?"

"He wouldn't agree with me, I'm sure, but yes, Timothy McGee has recovered his mental strength. In fact, I'd say that he is stronger now than he's ever been. He's faced down the worst the world has to offer and survived it with his mind intact. He can tolerate working with you and whatever that will require...but only if you're really going to try to keep him alive. He won't do well with being a sacrifice for the greater good."

"I don't tend to do much of that."

"Yes, you do. Your entire life is about that."

"I don't sacrifice others to the greater good unless there's no other option."

"Yeah, I know that. Of all the people in the world, _I_ know that."

Carew got to his feet.

"Do you want me not to warn him?"

"I'd prefer it, but I won't make it a requirement."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"It won't change anything. If you think it best, feel free to let him know that I'm coming."

That same blase tone. Always the same tone. Woodrow knew that there was emotion somewhere behind it, but Carew's dedication to his position and maintaining it took precedence. Personally, he wondered if Carew would _ever_ be able to drop the mask he lived in. It had been a long time. Except for those first confused days after his rescue, he had never seen Carew acting naturally. Those black eyes had been alive, almost amused, in his memory. Now, they were just black.

"I'll be telling him."

"Okay. I'll keep that in mind."

"How long does he have?"

"Two days at the outside. Maybe less."

"How long will it be?"

"No more than a month."

"Okay."

Carew walked out of the office and Woodrow leaned back and sighed. He hated that this was the way Tim's life was, but on the plus side, if he could get this done, that would end his obligation to Carew. Everything else that was going on in his life was much improved from its previous state. This could be his chance to get even better.

...if he could survive it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Tim woke up and took stock of his condition. That was something he always tried to do when he awakened. It was better if he knew in advance that his feet were going to hurt. Would this be permanent? He didn't know, but he had proved yesterday that his feet weren't ready for an all-out run. ...and yet, he'd also proven that he could handle it if he had to. Yes, he'd paid the price and his physical therapist had lectured him about exerting himself too much, but it was almost gratifying to know that he had the ability inside him. Two days later and he was feeling recovered from his foolish impulse. That was a good thing. He needed to focus on the good things, too.

A muffled whuffling aroused him to the other occupant of his apartment. His dog. It was a bigger dog than he'd ever thought about getting, but Jethro had been very well-behaved, and Tim had to admit that he always felt pretty safe when he went walking in the mornings with Jethro by his side. And Jethro had also shown remarkable patience with Tim's generally slow gait. No pulling at the leash to get away and run. The only time he ran was when they got to the park and Tim let him off the leash.

Today, Tim had his (throughly-vetted) dog walker coming to give Jethro some good exercise. He didn't want this hardy dog to go to seed because his owner couldn't run as much as he might want to. That meant that Tim could be lazy.

"Good morning, Jethro," he said and stretched out as far as he could, enjoying the feeling of his muscles being pulled to their farthest extent. It just felt...good.

Jethro jumped on the bed and proceeded to interrupt Tim's luxuriating by licking his face and then nudging him, as if to say he'd been laying around long enough. It was time to get up.

"Okay, okay," Tim said and smiled.

This just felt like a good day. Some days were bad days, but some days were good, and he was learning to acknowledge it.

He got up and walked into the kitchen so that he could feed Jethro before he showered. Jethro pranced around him but didn't jump up. Tim appreciated it because, while his feet felt pretty good right now, that was no reason to start straining them again. If he took the time to heal, he'd heal that much faster. Tim could hear his physical therapist saying that to him over and over again.

Jethro started eating his food with abandon, completely ignoring Tim for the moment. Tim watched him fondly. He had never realized how nice it would be to have a companion, even a furry one. Jethro's presence settled him even on his worst days.

He shook his head at his thoughts and went to the bathroom to get ready for his day.

When he got out of the shower, he wound a towel around his waist and walked out of the bathroom to make sure Jethro was still enjoying his meal. As he looked at Jethro in the kitchen, his phone rang. He hadn't expected any calls this morning, but he suppressed the worry that welled up.

"McGee," he said.

"_Hi, Tim. It's Dr. Hicks."_

"Hi. What's up?"

"_Can you come to my office today?"_

"Why?" Tim asked, the worry coming up again. "What's going on? I'm not supposed to meet with you, today."

"_I know. Tim, just come. I don't want to talk about this over the phone. Can you come in this morning?"_

"Let me call Gibbs. I think I'll be able to."

"_I'm sorry, Tim. I thought about waiting, but you'll see that it wasn't a good idea."_

"Okay."

"_It won't be as bad as you're afraid it is."_

Tim laughed a little.

"How can you be sure of that?"

"_Because you'll be thinking the worst, and it's not the worst. I may have to convince you of that before you'll believe it."_

"You're pretty good at that. I'll call Gibbs and then call you back."

"_Okay. Take a deep breath and calm down, Tim."_

Tim took a breath but he didn't really relax at all. Still, he hung up and then called Gibbs.

"_Gibbs."_

"Boss...can I come in late today?"

"_Why?"_

"Dr. Hicks called me. He says he needs to talk to me."

"_About what?"_

"He wouldn't say over the phone. Boss...I..."

"_You don't think you can wait."_

"No. I don't."

"_Okay. Remember."_

"I'll keep you in the loop. I promise, Boss."

"_Okay. You can be late...just don't disappear."_

"Not in my plans, right now."

"_But you're afraid that it might come up?"_

"Yeah."

"_You tell us, McGee."_

"Yeah, Boss."

"_Okay. See you."_

"Bye."

Tim took another deep breath. How could it have been that a few minutes ago he was thinking about how good the day was going to be?

"The universe is conspiring against me, Jethro," Tim said, his voice a little shaky. He sank down onto his bed, just in his towel.

Jethro came into the bedroom and put his head on Tim's knee, panting and looking up at him.

"Thanks." He called Dr. Hicks back. "I'll be there."

"_You're not relaxed."_

"Did you really think that I would be?"

"_No. Not really. That's why in person is better."_

"Give me a few minutes."

"_No problem. I cleared out my morning. We can take the time you need."_

"This must be bad."

"_I know you'll see it that way."_

"Okay. Bye."

Tim hung up tossed his phone to the side and then fell back on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling. What could it be that Dr. Hicks wanted to tell him? ...that wasn't as bad as he was afraid it would be? It had to be something to do with Carew. What else would be so horrible to him?

"I can't get away from this. It's part of my life, Jethro. I know that I need to accept it. I just don't _want_ to. It's only been a few months since I got away the last time. How many more times? Jethro, this is just not fair. ...but my life isn't fair. At least, I got away from the others even if I can't get away from Carew. I should probably get dressed and go."

Jethro jumped on the bed again, walked over to Tim's head and licked his face.

"Blech! Jethro, don't do that!" Tim said, wiping his face.

...but he smiled.

"Thanks."

The little lift his dog's devotion had given him was enough to get Tim back up and dressed and out the door.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs felt a strong disquiet after getting off the phone with Tim. There had been anxiety in Tim's voice but carefully controlled. He knew that Tim trusted Dr. Hicks, but he was reluctant to be so trusting. Still, he'd never tell that to Tim because Tim had found it so difficult to start trusting _anyone_, including himself, that he didn't want to disturb that progress.

Even so...

What was going to come next?

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Dr. Hicks had his door open. Sherry wasn't in yet. He had made the decision to tell Tim early even though it would ruin his day because it would give him more time to come to terms with what was to come. ...and maybe he could get Tim to find support from his friends. He hoped so.

The door to the outer office opened.

"Dr. Hicks?"

"Come on in, Tim. Have a seat."

Tim walked in without any sign of a limp, but with plenty of signs of anxiety.

"So what is it?" he asked.

"First, sit down, close your eyes and take a deep breath."

"Do we have time for that?" Tim asked with a small smile.

"Absolutely. Close your eyes and breath in."

Tim sat down and did as Dr. Hicks said.

"Now, exhale."

Tim did so.

"Just relax as much as you can."

He let Tim breathe for a few seconds in silence.

"Feeling any better?"

Tim smiled.

"Yeah. A little."

"Good."

"So tell me what's going on."

Dr. Hicks sighed and nodded.

"Carew came here last night."

"About me?"

"Yes."

"What did he want?"

"He wanted to know if you were mentally ready to work with him again."

"And you told him I was?"

"I did."

Tim leaned forward looking upset.

"Why? Why would you tell him that I was ready? I'll never be ready to go into that...that...headspace again. Ever! Why would you tell him that?"

Dr. Hicks also leaned forward. He really wanted Tim to understand and to get around his instinctive fear that loomed up whenever the CIA was involved. They'd made a lot of progress with it, but not enough.

"I told him that because it was the truth, Tim. You _are_ ready, mentally. You've recovered to a degree that I'd dare say that you are _stronger_ now that you were before all this started. You've fallen as low as you can and you've climbed back out. That takes real strength of mind. I know you don't want to work with him. I know that you're upset with me for even allowing the possibility, but it's true. You can tolerate it."

Tim shook his head and stood up. He walked to the window and stared out without speaking.

"I don't feel stronger...not about Carew. Not ever about him. Thinking about going back there..."

"Think about this, then. Carew is going to call in the favor you owe him. Once this is done, you owe him nothing. The CIA surveillance is something you'll have to live with, but you won't have anything hanging over you."

"If I survive it," Tim whispered.

"Yes."

"What do you know?"

"Not much. Sit down, Tim."

Tim walked back to the chair and sat down.

"What do you know, Dr. Hicks?" he asked again.

"I know that, yes, this will be dangerous and you'll be working directly with Carew...to fix a mistake he made thirty years ago."

"Thirty years?"

"When he saved my life."

"What do you mean?"

Dr. Hicks leaned back and smiled. "I didn't think of it myself for a while after, but I did later, when I was in my right mind again. It makes no logical sense that the CIA would dispatch one of their most specialized units to save a no-name graduate student. I wasn't important. They thought I was someone else. I don't know who they thought I was, but I know, now, that what they thought they were getting wasn't me. Carew told me that it was his mistake...but he wouldn't tell me what the mistake was. I only know that this is something big, but for whatever reason is something he doesn't want to entrust to anyone who works for him."

"How long?"

"He said that it would be upwards of a month."

"How many things can go wrong in that much time?"

"Given the fact that Carew is planning on it being dangerous...a lot. Tim, I'm not trying to tell you that this is going to be easy, that it won't be dangerous, that you won't hate it. I'm trying to tell you that you can tolerate it, that you can even excel at it. ...and that this can be the end of it if you want it to be."

"No question of that last part," Tim said. "Why me?"

"Because Carew trusts you...and he knows you have the skills he needs."

"Great. I wish he didn't."

Dr. Hicks laughed.

"That's what you get for being a good man, Tim. They say that no good deed goes unpunished."

"Are you _trying_ to make me want to pursue a life of crime?" Tim asked, but he smiled a little...a testament to just how far he'd actually come since Dr. Hicks had met him.

"I don't think you could, Tim. It's just not in you."

Tim's smile became a little wistful and he leaned back to stare at the ceiling.

"Sometimes, I've wished that I could be...not evil, but more corrupted. It's just that I see what corruption does and I don't like it. I don't want to be that person...even if it would be easier."

"Just accept that you're not corrupted. That's a _good_ thing, Tim. You're finding your footing in a world where solid footing is hard to come by. You don't have to give it up. Carew maneuvers by refusing to outright lie and never showing what he feels. I'll be honest, Tim, I like your way better as hard as it's been for you to get to this point. I think it's a better way of life. You have more than Carew does."

"Not a day goes by that I don't wish I could have the life that I had before all this started. I know I can't, but I wish I could."

"I can't tell you not to regret it, but I can tell you that it's better to accept what you have than to try to hold on to a memory of what you can't."

"Yeah. I know." Tim sighed and sat up. There was a down-to-business expression on his face that made Dr. Hicks want to smile. "So...when will all this start."

"Two days at most. Probably more like one. Knowing Carew as I do, I'd guess that he'll show up at your apartment unannounced and expect to leave."

"Okay. I guess I'll be ready for that. I'll have to make sure someone can take care of Jethro. ...my dog, not my boss."

Dr. Hicks laughed.

"You should tell your friends that you'll be gone. You may even be able to keep in some kind of contact with them this time."

"I don't know if I want to let them know. They'll hate it and try to stop me."

"They may, but you know that they won't be able to. That's just not going to happen."

"You're right, but it won't stop them from trying."

"Think of it this way, Tim. It's so much better for everyone if they can prepare in advance for your leaving. Don't make them discover it as another disappearance. Tell them the truth and let them get it out of their system so that you can leave on good terms."

Tim nodded. "I'll tell Gibbs first. See if he'll help me with it."

"Okay. If you want to talk about it at any time, just let me know. Until you leave, I'll make space for you in my schedule."

"Thanks."

Tim stood up and put out his hand. Dr. Hicks shook it firmly.

"It's been a pleasure, Dr. Hicks. No matter what comes from all this, I am glad that I was forced to meet with you."

Dr. Hicks smiled. "My pleasure."

He watched Tim leave his office and sighed as he sat back down in his chair. He hoped that everything would work out this time around. He couldn't stop what was coming, but he could pray that Tim would catch a break this time.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Cynthia was running late. She hated to be late to work. It went against the grain for her. She grabbed her bag and hurried out the door.

"Ms. Sumner, may I have a moment of your time?"

She paused and turned.

"What do _you_ want?" she asked.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"I only want a few minutes of your time, Ms. Sumner."

"Director Carew, what makes you think that I have _any_ time to give to you?" Cynthia asked with barely-veiled contempt.

Carew smiled that smile that made her want to punch him. As far as she was concerned, Carew was the epitome of the kind of people who had forced her to abandon men and women in the field, leaving them to die when the operation went south. He deserved no respect.

"Because of someone we both know and you have a great deal of professional concern for."

Cynthia narrowed her eyes.

"Agent McGee?" she asked.

"Very good."

"What do you want?"

"As I said, a few minutes of your time, but it can't be done out in the open. You never know who might be listening in."

Cynthia looked at Carew for a few moments. Whatever else she could say against him, he was honest. He meant what he was saying.

"Make a choice, Ms. Sumner. I'm not unlimited with my time," Carew said mildly.

Cynthia looked at Carew and then did something she never imagined she'd do.

She invited the director of the CIA into her home.

"All right. Come in."

Carew walked by her and looked around her home with some interest.

"A bit of dust in the air, I see. You should clean more," he said and seemed to find that statement rather entertaining.

"What do you want, Carew?"

Carew turned around, abruptly back to business. Cynthia, like most people, found his gaze disconcerting, but she didn't show it.

"Agent McGee and I will be...working together for a while, and we may have need of your services."

"As what?"

"As our home base...people we can check in with when we need extra help. Someone unconnected with the situation and thus will not be the focus of any investigation into where we are and what we're doing. You are that person."

"Why? Why would that be necessary?"

"When you read the paper tomorrow, you'll know. For now, I need an answer. If you can't or aren't willing, then I'll find someone else. I need a home base. I've chosen you, but there's always second best. What's your decision?"

"You need to know right now?"

"Yes. I'm on a tight schedule."

Cynthia sighed. There really was no choice as far as she was concerned. She had offered her skills to Tim last year, and that was something that hadn't changed. She didn't want to get pulled back into the world of covert ops, but she couldn't leave Tim alone in it with Carew, not if there was a chance of her being able to help.

"Fine. What do you need from me?"

Carew smiled. "You'll get a shipment in the next day or two. We'll contact you when we're ready. We have some other information to dig up first...before it gets dangerous."

"And does Agent McGee know about this?"

"Yes, more than likely. I haven't told him, but I'm sure he knows at this point." Carew walked back to the door. "Thank you, Ms. Sumner. You'll know what to do when the equipment gets here. I doubt your memory has faded."

He walked out the door, leaving Cynthia alone in her home. She sat down on her couch for a few seconds. What was going to happen? She didn't know, but she was sure that she'd hate it...and that Tim would hate it even more.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Carew got back into his car and sent his driver to his next appointment. On the way over, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number that no one else in the world had.

"_Carew."_

Carew smiled although the speaker couldn't see that.

"Hello."

"_You got my message, then?"_

"Any news?"

"_No. Not yet. Could be too late."_

"Not until we know we are. What about the other?"

"_You're coming?"_

"Yes."

"_Personally?"_

"Yes."

"_I'll try to have something for you, but at best all I'll be able to do is point you in the right direction."_

"We won't need more than that."

"_We? There's more than one?"_

"Yes. Only one."

"_That's not many."_

"I have what I need."

"_Okay."_ The tone was unconcerned, but that was no less than Carew expected from this man.

"I want you to meet us at the airport."

"_Why? Can't live without me?"_ he asked cynically.

"Hardly. I think we'll need your help with a few things."

"_Okay. I'll be there. You going to want me to come with you later on?"_

"Possibly. Not necessarily yet."

"_Okay. Whatever works best."_

Carew smiled and hung up. That was all he needed, and anything more would have to wait until they could talk without worry about being overheard.

...although how much he could depend on security _anywhere_ right now was up in the air. That was the reason this op was so important.

"Sir, back to McLean?"

Carew settled back in his seat.

"Yes. Are you ready for tonight?"

"Of course. I wouldn't mess up something like that."

"Good."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim walked into NCIS and looked around for Gibbs and Tony and Ziva...but none of them were there.

"Great. I hate being late," he said.

"Tim."

Tim turned around.

"Cynthia...does the director need to see me?"

"No...unless you think she does."

That was an odd thing to say, and Cynthia looked very serious.

"What's up, Cynthia?"

"Carew talked to me, this morning."

"About what?"

"About what's going to happen."

"Why you?"

"As backup. A home base."

"Why?"

Cynthia smiled a little. "Because he knew that I wouldn't be able to say no."

"You can say no," Tim said. "I know you don't want that life."

"No, I don't, but I can't say no when you're going to be part of it."

"How much did he tell you?"

"Very little...only that I could expect equipment to be arriving in the next couple of days."

"I don't know any more than that yet. I'm sure I will soon."

Cynthia squeezed his arm.

"I'll be on the other end of the line when you need me, Tim. ...and I won't have to cut you off."

Tim smiled at Cynthia's earnestness.

"I'll feel better with you on the other end of the line...and if it comes down to it, it might be nice to hear from the others, too."

Cynthia smiled in return.

"I think that could be arranged."

"Good. Do you know where the team is?"

"Nope. Sorry. I just came down."

"That's fine. I guess I should probably talk to Director Shephard, shouldn't I."

"She'd want to know."

"Yeah. Does she have time right now?"

"I think she does. Why don't you come up?"

"Okay."

Tim followed Cynthia up the stairs. He didn't want his team to be the last to know, but they weren't here and from an occupation standpoint, Jenny needed to know. So he went into her office. Jenny was there and somehow, Tim could believe that she already knew something.

"Well?" she said.

That was all.

"Carew is...appropriating me. He's calling in the favor I owe him, and I can't say no."

Jenny sighed.

"I guess I can't say your job is on the line, then."

Tim smiled.

"No. You can't...well, you could, but I hope you won't. I made a deal with Carew, and now that favor I owe him is being called on. I don't know what he wants or where I'll end up, but I do know that I have to do this."

"How long?"

"From what little I know, probably about a month."

"Okay." Jenny sat down and looked at him sympathetically. "I have to say one thing...Tim."

"What?"

"Your poise and calm make me feel a whole lot better. The other times this life of yours has reared its head, you've been hanging on by a thread. You seem ready...even if you don't want to do it."

Tim thought about it. Dr. Hicks had said much the same thing, but Tim was surprised at how different it was coming from someone other than his psychiatrist. And as he thought, he realized that, yes, he did feel ready. He wasn't happy about it. He wasn't looking forward to it. If he could, he'd get out of it...but he couldn't, and he was dealing with it.

"I guess I am."

"In that case, do it and free yourself of any obligation to Carew." She stood up, walked over to him and put out her hand. "And good luck, Tim."

"Thank you, Director Shephard."

Tim shook her hand firmly and walked back out of the office. He looked down over the balcony and saw Gibbs standing there, looking up at him. He nodded and Gibbs gestured to the elevator. Tim walked over, got on it and sent it down to the bullpen. When the doors opened, Gibbs was right there. He stepped on and started it moving...before stopping it dead.

"Well?" he asked, much the same as Jenny had.

"Carew's calling in the favor. I have to go with him, probably tonight."

"Just like that?"

Tim nodded. "Yes. I can't say no. You know I can't, Boss."

"You could."

"No. Not and be who I am. I made a deal with him. I can't go back on that...and the results of the deal I made are worth it."

Gibbs' jaw clenched for just a moment and Tim knew he was biting back a denial. They had already been through this...many times.

"I think it'll be tonight, but I don't know for sure. I just know that Carew will show up and I'll leave with him."

"To do what?"

"I don't know that yet, but I'll be asking him...and I know that it's something serious...probably dangerous, and that he wouldn't have asked if he didn't really need me."

Gibbs grunted.

"Boss, this is a chance...a chance to break that connection I have to the CIA."

"It won't break that, Tim," Gibbs said. "It'll get rid of an obligation, but that connection is permanent. You should realize that by now. You'll never really be free of that connection. It's too deep."

Tim felt a pang he hadn't expected at hearing that...but it wasn't really a surprise.

"Maybe...but from here on out, anything I do for the CIA will be voluntary. It won't be because I have to or because I want revenge or because I owe someone something. It will be in the open and it will be something that I choose. I can't choose right now, Boss."

Gibbs smiled unexpectedly.

"Sounds to me like you have."

"Really?"

"You've chosen to accept it...and I'm glad."

"Why?"

"Because you're stronger when you're facing something head on, rather than trying to avoid it."

"Maybe."

"How much will you tell Tony and Ziva?"

"I can't tell them much of anything right now, but I need to at least let them know I'm going...but I need you to be there to back me up. Tony won't accept it. Maybe Ziva won't either, but I know Tony won't want to, and I can't have him trying to stop me. Not this time. Not any other time, either," Tim said with a bit of a rueful smile. "But definitely not this time. There's something serious going on here, Boss. Carew has already talked to Cynthia about using her...talents as our backup. Whatever he's doing, it's completely off-the-record. It looks like no one is going to know about it. That means it's really serious...and probably means that we'll be trying to protect the country. If there's more to it, I wouldn't be surprised, but this is going to be serious."

"And you won't let anyone come along?"

"I doubt _Carew_ will let someone come along...but if we end up using Cynthia, I wouldn't mind hearing from you all when I can."

Gibbs was silent for a few moments. Tim knew that he'd have to wait and let Gibbs decide in his own time...but he really hoped that Gibbs would follow along because he needed someone on his side in this.

"Okay. I'll back you up, but you remember that even if you have to go alone, you don't have to _be_ alone in this. Not ever."

Tim nodded.

"I won't have time to start something new, Boss...but I'll be thinking about my next project while I'm gone."

Gibbs smiled...and turned back on the elevator. Tim took a breath in preparation for the coming confrontation with well-meaning people who wouldn't want to let him go.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Tim and Gibbs stepped off the elevator into the bullpen. Tim looked at Tony and Ziva and regretted having to disturb their calm. He knew it would, and he hated that Carew had revealed the details of his deal...even now, almost two years after he'd made the deal, he still hated that they had to know about it...and he regretted any pain he caused them, even peripherally.

"So...what secretive meeting were you two having in Gibbs' office?" Tony asked.

It was forced. Tim could hear it. Tony knew there was _something_ going on.

Tim walked over, grabbed his chair and pulled it out from behind his desk.

"Campfire?" he suggested with a smile.

"I'm okay with that," Tony said.

Ziva smiled and moved her chair without speaking. Even Gibbs moved his. When they were all moved to the center of the bullpen, Tim leaned forward.

"What's up, McGee?" Tony asked.

"I have to go...with Carew. Probably tonight."

"No," Tony said. "No way, Tim."

"Yes way, Tony," Tim said with a smile. "I have to. Carew is calling in the favor I owe him."

"For helping save us," Ziva said.

"Yeah. I told you he'd collect at some point. At some point is now. I can't say no."

"Yeah, you can! It's a really short word! In fact, you just said it!"

Tim smiled ruefully.

"Tony, please. Don't make this harder than it has to be. I'm leaving and there's nothing you can do to stop it. It's not going to be permanent."

"Unless you die," Ziva said. "I think this cannot be simple if Carew is calling on you for help now. He would not use this favor for something easy. What has he told you?"

"Nothing yet."

"Then...how do you know?" Tony asked.

"Dr. Hicks told me. ...and so did Cynthia."

"Cynthia? How, in the name of Ned, does _she_ know?"

"Apparently, Carew thinks we'll need her help. He asked her. ...and she agreed."

"Need her for what?"

"I don't know beyond as our home base. If he has a specific task in mind for her, he hasn't told her yet."

"So you're just going to say yes?" Tony asked.

"Yeah. Tony...this is the chance to get rid of any obligation I have to the CIA. Once this is done, I'm done. I don't have to do _anything_ for the CIA if I choose not to. It'll be dangerous. I know that going in, but I'm ready for it. I'm _ready_ to do this."

"And it's his choice," Gibbs said quietly.

Tim felt a rush of gratitude. That was what he had needed Gibbs to say and he'd said it.

Tony sat back and nodded, although he was extremely reluctant, he was clearly capitulating. He got to his feet and held out his hand. Tim took it and let Tony pull him up...but he was surprised when Tony suddenly gave him a quick hug.

"Be careful out there, Probie. Okay?"

"I will. Thanks, Tony."

Ziva had said almost nothing, but she also got to her feet and hugged him very tightly.

"Keep in contact if you can," she whispered.

"I will...if I can."

"What do you want to do, McGee? Work here or get ready?"

"I'd rather work, Boss," Tim said.

"Okay. There's work to do."

Tim nodded and they all moved their chairs back to their desks and started to work.

To Tim's relief, the day was actually quite uneventful. Abby and Ducky and Jimmy somehow found out (may have had something to do with Gibbs' abrupt disappearance) and they came up to wish Tim luck. To his surprise, that's _all_ they did. Abby didn't wail or moan. Ducky didn't have a story to share. Jimmy said almost nothing. It was just a moment and then they were gone again. After that, they were able to get some work done and it felt good to be doing the job he loved...before going off to do the job he had to do.

At the end of the day (actually, _before _the end of the day), Gibbs looked at Tim and jerked his head toward the elevator.

"Tim...go."

Tim looked at him and then at Tony and Ziva. In a way, even though he was dreading this, it was a relief to go, a relief to get this started. There was no confusion here. He was off to do something that could likely lead to his death, but could also lead to freedom. He was willing to take that chance.

"Bye, guys," he said and waved a little.

"See you when you get back," Tony said.

"Right."

Tim got on the elevator and left.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Carew sat in his office. It had been _his_ for quite a few years. He found that he was reluctant to leave. Funny, since he'd never actually _wanted_ to be the director of the CIA. It was always something he felt he _needed_ to be. Now, he didn't want to give up the office. A big part of it was because he had to go back to a choice he'd made thirty years ago. He stood by the decision he'd made. It was the only call he could have made back then...and even now, he couldn't see another possible response. Still, this was his mess to clean up and he couldn't very well leave it to anyone else.

Everything was ready, as well-prepared as was possible in the situation. All that remained was to pick up his assistant. Instead of his usual car and driver, he had a private car. His official car was being used elsewhere.

One last look around. If worse came to worst, he wouldn't ever be coming back here.

"There are worse things than that," he said to himself and smiled.

Carew picked up his bag and walked out of the office.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim was sitting on his bed. He'd forgotten about getting Jethro taken care of and he needed to call someone...probably Gibbs. It wasn't that he didn't trust the others, but as the moment of departure approached (whenever it would be), he felt some reluctance to call anyone. He wanted to start the separation now.

The intercom buzzed. Tim sighed. That must be Carew. He walked over.

"Yeah?"

"_Tim...may I come up?"_

"Ziva? What are you doing here?"

"_May I come up?"_

"Yeah. Of course." He buzzed her in and then waited at the door. Cautioned ruled and he didn't open it until she came and knocked and he verified it was her through the peephole.

"Hello, Tim."

"Ziva...what are you doing here? We said good-bye already."

Ziva came in and hugged Tim tightly.

"It is not enough just to say good-bye, Tim," she whispered. "You may not come back."

"Yeah, I know."

She let him go.

"I cannot just say good-bye and hope."

"That's all you _can_ do, Ziva. You can't come along."

"But I can stay with you until you leave."

"I don't know how long it will take for Carew to show up, Ziva. It's not a set schedule...at least, not on my end."

"I know...but I have no schedule for tonight...except to worry."

She smiled a little.

"You don't have to," Tim said softly. "You can't worry the whole time I'm gone."

"Yes, I can. We all can and we all will worry until you are back safe."

Tim closed the door.

"Well...if so...then, I'm happy to have you here with me. What do you want to do while we're waiting for the inevitable?"

"I would like to sit with you."

"Okay."

They walked to the couch and sat down.

"You have lived here for a year and I still am not used to this place."

"I'm not really either, but I'm enjoying it...and Jethro likes it."

Ziva chuckled.

"I tried to change his name," Tim said with a grin. "Too late. It works. By the way...I forgot to arrange for someone to take care of him while I'm gone. I'd guess that your apartment doesn't accept big dogs, but Ducky or Gibbs could take him in and I'm sure they'd be willing to. Could you drop him off?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you afraid?"

"Yes."

Ziva put her arm around him and Tim was content to lean against her. There was little to say. Nothing could change at this point. Tim wasn't even sure he _wanted_ things to change. There was so much potential for improvement in this situation.

They sat together for about an hour and then there was a knock on the door.

"Does Carew have your access code?" Ziva asked.

"Not from me, he doesn't...but I don't know that it would stop him from getting it."

"Of course."

She got up and walked to the door, checking the peephole before opening it.

"Hello, Director Carew."

"You seem unsurprised," he said.

"I am not."

She stepped back and Tim got to his feet.

"Carew," he said calmly.

"You look ready," Carew said. He was dressed very casually, jeans and a casual jacket. It was strange seeing him in something other than a suit.

"Almost. What am I going to need?"

"Casual clothing. Everything else, I'll make sure you have."

"I'd better be armed."

"You will be."

"Okay. Ziva?"

"If she wants to see you off, that's fine with me. We're going to the airport to meet up with one of my contacts."

Tim furrowed his brow and looked at Ziva.

"If you want to...I guess..."

"Yes, I will come," Ziva said.

"Only to the airport, however. We have a lot to do and an unknown time in which to do it. When we arrive at the airport, I would ask that you don't try to sneak aboard the plane or any other silliness."

Ziva grimaced, but Tim squeezed her arm gently. He could see that Carew was simply baiting her to get a reaction. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He just smiled and shook his head. No need to get into this.

"Then, let's go," Carew said.

Tim grabbed his travel bag and he and Ziva followed Carew out of the apartment.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

When they pulled up to the small private plane, Ziva was seized by an irrational desire to grab Tim and drag him away from what could be coming. She couldn't get over the fact that this was happening because Tim had been willing to sign his life away to save them.

...but she didn't do anything besides get out of the car.

A man got off the plane.

"Carew, they've got their flight plan in place. Ready to go when you are."

The voice was one she'd never expected to hear again and she recognized it right away. Tim was momentarily forgotten and she walked forward.

"Ray?"

The man stiffened and his gaze shifted from Carew to Ziva.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"You are supposed to be dead," Ziva said, feeling more shocked than she could have imagined.

"I am dead. I'm a ghost. Ziva, just forget you saw me, please. Why are you here?"

"Tim is leaving. I am seeing him off. He is going with you?"

Ray's eyes shifted once more and looked at Tim and Carew standing side by side.

"I guess he is."

Ray started to turn away.

"Wait!" Ziva said. She found herself running to him and grabbing his arm to stop him from leaving.

Ray stopped and looked at her hand.

"You do not feel like a ghost."

"I am."

"Agent McGee and I will be conversing with the pilots. Feel free to chat for a few minutes," Carew said. "I'll come and tell you when we're going to take off."

Ziva noticed that Ray seemed anything but happy to be, essentially, instructed to speak with her. She was rather ambivalent herself, but she couldn't just let it end there. No matter how bitterly she'd hated him for what he'd done, at some point, they had loved each other, and she had been upset and confused when she had learned about his supposed death.

"What is there to say that you didn't already tell me the last time I talked to you?" Ray asked.

"How is that you are still alive? There was a body."

"It wasn't mine," Ray said. "I was given two options. Either have my body show up in the Potomac or else become a ghost. I'm as much of a coward as you might imagine, Ziva. I chose to be a ghost. Carew uses me exclusively overseas in places that the CIA can't officially be involved. Why he thought I could do better than I did the last time, I don't know."

"So that is what you are doing?"

"Yes."

"Nothing else?"

"When I'm not being used, I spend a lot of drinking," Ray said with a cynical expression.

"And that is all your life is?"

"It's not life, Ziva," Ray said. He turned away from her and looked at the plane. "It's my attempt to find some sort of...penance. Some way that I can make up for the fact that I killed an innocent woman because I let myself become obsessed with finding a guilty man. I'd seen what he'd done and all I wanted was to kill him and make sure he couldn't hurt, kill or otherwise mar any other member of the human race. I did that...but I killed an innocent woman on the way to success. ...and I destroyed myself in the process. If spending the rest of my existence like this will somehow help get rid of that guilt, I'll do it for as long as it takes...and if I'm lucky, at some point, I'll be killed in action. I'm too much of a coward to end it myself."

The love Ziva had felt for Ray was gone, but what she felt now, in the wake of the love and then hatred...it could only be described as pity.

"Sometimes, when I'm not working or drinking, I let myself think about other things." He turned back. "But it's only pain, Ziva. There's nothing else there. I destroyed my entire life and the lives of others." His expression became earnest, the cynicism vanishing as if it had never been and he really looked like the man she had loved. "I know it doesn't make any difference to what the result was, but please believe me, Ziva. I didn't want her to die. She was never just collateral damage. If I could trade my life for hers, I would do it in a second."

"I believe you," Ziva said.

As she looked at Ray, she was suddenly struck with the realization that the way Ray was could have been what Tim had become...if he had been allowed to retreat from his life and live only on work and guilt. He had that same guilt inside him that Ray now did. The pity she felt turned to regret at how things had changed. She stepped forward and hugged him tightly.

"I am sorry, Ray," she said softly. "I am sorry that this has happened to you, that you are left this way. ...and I am sorry that there is nothing I can do."

He pulled back and smiled a little, just for a moment.

"You've just done more than I would ever have expected of you." He looked up at the sky. "And I'm actually really glad that you found out because I could never have let you go and I would have destroyed you, too, if we had stayed together...but I wouldn't have been strong enough to say no. Ziva, you represent everything that I wanted out of life, but by the end, you were a symbol, not a reality I could hope to grasp. Our relationship really had become that stupid empty box. I could never have filled it."

"I know," Ziva said. "I hated you, Ray. I did, but now, I...I am simply sorry for what your life has become."

The cynical expression covered his features again and he smiled.

"That's why you should just imagine me dead. It's a happier ending than I'll ever get."

"It's time to leave," Carew said from the door of the plane.

Ziva looked at him and then at Tim who had also come to the door. He walked down the steps and over to them both. Ray looked at Tim and then back at Ziva. Whatever he was thinking was covered by that cynical smile. He nodded to her and climbed onto the plane. Tim looked at her.

"Time to go," he said.

Ziva hugged him one more time.

"You have so much of life left in you, Tim. Please, come back. Do not let this destroy you...not your mind or your body."

"I'll do my best." Tim stepped back. "That's Ray?"

Ziva nodded.

"Do not ask me, Tim. I cannot talk about it."

"I won't. I understand. Don't forget to take care of Jethro."

He smiled, and the difference between his nervous smile and Ray's cynical smile was almost painful. In spite of all Tim had been through, he was infinitely better off...and that gave Ziva some hope that Tim could come out of this as strong as he was now.

"I will go and get him now."

"Thank you. Bye."

Ziva kissed him on the cheek and then let him board. He waved once and then vanished from her sight.

Ziva left the tarmac before the plane door was even closed. There was nothing more to see. She hurried back to Tim's place, let herself inside and called for Jethro. She knelt on the floor and looked into those trusting eyes.

"He will come back, Jethro," she said. "He _must_ come back."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim looked wistfully out the window for a moment and then turned to the two men who would be his only real companions.

"Okay. What's going on?" he asked.

Carew sat down opposite him.

"What do you know about smart dust, Agent McGee?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Smart dust?" Tim repeated. "Not a whole lot."

"What do you know?" Carew repeated.

Tim shrugged. "Well...it was first proposed in the late nineties by a bunch of guys from Berkeley. I know that they weren't the first ones to think about it. There are some scifi novels that use the concept. Ideally, they're a wireless network of sensors the size of...dust, but in reality, we can't get sensors that small because the technology doesn't allow for that degree of miniaturization. Probably, that will be overcome, eventually. It's hard to use the word impossible in technology, but it hasn't happened yet."

He paused and Carew gestured for him to continue. Tim was rapidly reaching the end of what he knew but he guessed that Carew needed to see what kind of foundation he had before he explained the reason for the question in the first place.

"Uh...If they could get it to work, it would be a potentially-enormous network of microelectromechanical systems, able to sense light, chemicals, vibrations, magnetism...and they'd all be connected wirelessly, meaning that they could, conceivably, be placed anywhere. I think I remember seeing something about particles being designed to deliver drugs to specific cells...earlier this year, I guess. So there are some developments, but how tiny we can actually make a controllable object...that's something we don't know, but we're not to actual controllable _dust_ yet."

Carew smiled a little.

"Are we?" Tim asked.

"Well..._we_ most definitely _aren't_," Carew said.

"But someone else is?"

Tim felt the plane build up speed and take off, but his attention was on Carew.

"Who? And _how_?"

"There's at least one man out there who has been working on the concept of smart dust for more than _thirty _years, not twenty."

"Thirty? Back in the eighties, you mean? But even the TinyOS started in '99, not '89. How were they _made_?"

"I didn't say we were _making_ smart dust back then. I said at least one person had been _working_ on it, and he's had more than a decade's head start on everyone else."

"So...who is this person? And if he's not here, then how do you know about it? I would assume that something like this isn't going to be common knowledge if it's being used by someone you consider to be a threat."

Carew smiled again.

"He used to be on our side...until about thirty years ago."

The time pinged on Tim's memory.

"Thirty years. ...like the amount of time that's passed since you saved Dr. Hicks?"

"Ah, he brought you up to speed on his history, did he?"

"Yeah...the little he knows about your side of it. That's what this is about?"

"More or less. Dr. Hicks is tangential. He always was."

"So...what is it then?"

"At the beginning of the 1980s, there was a researcher by the name of Higgins. He had an idea. What if we could, as things were getting smaller and smaller, figure out a way to make our bugs smaller and smaller? What if we could make microphones the size of dust? A handful of dust motes in a room where our enemies were planning an attack would reveal everything we could want to know...without putting any people in danger, and because it would be just dust, there would be no danger of the bug being found. He admitted the technology didn't exist...yet...but he thought his idea was a good one and could conceivably be developed in the future. So did DARPA...and so did the CIA...and the NSA. He got a grant, a lab, a _lot_ of money...and some top secret clearance and protection. He was working, getting paid and we thought things were going well. ...up until the day he vanished. He was headed to a conference in Geneva to talk with some others who were on the same wavelength he had been. He had protection. But he disappeared in Geneva and there was no evidence of it being against his will."

"He ran?"

"Looks like it, but we couldn't be sure; so we started looking. We thought we found him. Instead, we found a graduate student who had been mistaken for him. How that happened, we don't know. Maybe Higgins himself did it, but if we left had him there, anyone who wanted what Higgins had would be focused on this graduate student, giving us more breathing room to track him down."

"And if you left him there, you'd be leaving an innocent man to save a guilty one."

"Exactly what I said," Carew said with a bit of a smile. "So I..._persuaded _my colleagues to go in and save Woodrow Hicks. I promised that I would take care of the problem should it arise again. Of course, we kept looking for Higgins but without success. Not even a whisper of him anywhere. I never knew if that meant he was dead or in hiding. Either way, it meant that we had to start over because when we looked at his lab, it was conveniently emptied of all his research. The computers he'd been using were wiped clean. We had to start over, ten years behind schedule but with better technology at our disposal. We're making up for lost time, but over a week ago, a message was sent to the CIA through Mr. Cruz, here."

Ray said nothing, barely reacted at all to what was being said.

"It was a simple sentence meant for me. 'The dust is in the wind.' Silly, perhaps, but very clear."

"So...you think Higgins has done it? He's actually got that far?"

"If the message wasn't exaggerated. The operative was taken captive right after sending the message and so there wasn't time to elaborate. Mr. Cruz has been starting on the preliminary legwork but we've got a couple of stops to make before morning."

"Why before morning?"

"Because, in this country, Mr. Cruz is a dead man, and soon, the world must believe that _I_ am critically injured...in a car accident which should be happening in about two hours. My deputy director will take over. He's extremely competent and trustworthy. Should we not survive this mission, he'll be more than capable of taking over permanently. However, in this country, even though I'd be willing to wager quite a lot of money that people don't know what I look like, I'd rather not put it to the test and we have at least one person to talk to."

Tim nodded slowly.

"So...why me?"

"Because I'm going off the grid and I need access to your particular skill set."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that you and I will be working together. Mr. Cruz will get us started but he has other tasks to undertake; so it will mostly be just you and me."

Tim nodded again and took a deep breath.

"Do you have details on the background of all this?"

"That's our first stop. The man who got the jumpstart on our second attempt and then let himself fade into the background. He'd rather not have a lot of attention. He's a little eccentric but I think you'll like him. For now, I'd recommend that you get some rest. Once we get going, the hours won't be normal."

Suiting actions to words, Carew reclined his seat and closed his eyes. Tim looked at him appraisingly for a few moments. Clearly, he wasn't telling Tim everything yet. Well, that was all right...until they were really on their own. Then, holding back would be dangerous. Still, that was more open than he had expected...almost like that agony-laden ride with Carew to get his ability to speak back. Carew had told him things that Tim would wager he'd never told anyone before. Tim stared at the ceiling for a few minutes...until he felt someone sit down beside him. He looked over.

"Ray Cruz?" he asked.

Ray nodded.

"Did...she talk about me?"

"Not much. I think it was kind of a painful subject for her. I let her have her space."

Ray nodded.

"Yeah. Figured."

"Where are you based if you can't be in the States?" Tim asked. "...oh...do you want to get to sleep while we have time?"

Ray shook his head.

"No. When I sleep I always have the same dreams. I don't need to see those again."

"I know what you mean," Tim said, nodding. "I have a hard time sleeping, too. It's getting better, but I've done a lot of things I wish I hadn't done and my mind likes to dwell on that when I'm asleep."

Ray looked at him with some surprise. It was a natural expression where the cynicism was a grafted mask...like Carew's only without any acceptance of it at all.

"You have? Like what?"

"Do you not know anything about me at all?" Tim asked.

"I've heard your name, of course, from Ziva and from work a bit, but nothing you did was ever in my area. You were involved with that black ops group, weren't you?"

"Against my will, yes. I helped them track down and kill twenty-six people in the two months they were using me. It's taken a lot longer to accept it. Years, actually. I've been seeing a shrink and...and after the last time, things have been getting better. I'm actually hoping to get through this where the others..."

"You were just wishing that this time you'd actually die," Ray said.

"Yeah."

Ray looked at Carew and the down at his own hands.

"Tell me...how do you get over it? The guilt."

Tim looked at Ray and wondered if it would be possible for someone who had been isolated from the world as he himself had managed to avoid being.

"I don't know how it works for everyone, but for me...I had people who wouldn't let me give up, people who wanted me alive and even when I pushed them away, they didn't leave. That's what saved me. I still regret everything that happened. I wish that I could take it back, but I accept that I made the choice I did and that, even if I could go back, I probably would have made the same choice."

Ray nodded.

"In other words, you've had everything that I can't have. I guess I'll have to get used to seeing the blood on my hands."

"No," Tim said. "You don't."

"I killed an innocent woman, Agent McGee. I didn't mean to, but I did. I shot her. I didn't help track her down and someone else did it. I shot her. There's not a day goes by where, if I'm sober, that I don't see that, replay in my head over and over, wondering how it came to be that I was willing to kill the innocent to get at the guilty."

"I don't have the answers," Tim said. "I really don't, but there's hope."

"Not for me," Ray said. "I'll let you get some sleep."

He got up and walked to a different seat. Tim watched as he sat down and closed his eyes. He suspected that Ray wouldn't be doing much sleeping while he had company. Tim could easily imagine that he wouldn't want to expose his innermost feelings to anyone, not when he was doing his best to subsume them.

The problem was that there was no way to pay back the loss of a life, not even with the taking of another. That life was lost no matter what, and Ray had been left knowing that he couldn't repay and yet desperately wanting to. He was left wishing that he was dead and yet not wanting to end his own life.

It was a tangled web that wasn't likely to have any solution, at least not in the short term. Tim hoped that there was some way for Ray to get away from that trend of self-destruction.

For now, however, he decided to get some sleep.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Dale Mansen had never been in an accident before. He was an excellent driver and had passed every test ever set for him. In fact, he'd been a race car driver, but not on those regular oval tracks. Oh, no. No NASCAR for him. He had been in Honda Indy in Toronto, a race on an actual street. He'd been on pit crews. He'd been the relief driver. Dale was good at his job, but this was the first time he'd ever been asked to crash a car intentionally. In working for the CIA and being the official driver for the Director, Dale had learned not to ask questions. He would be told what he was allowed to know.

All he knew was that he had to crash the car and make it look good...without killing himself in the process.

So that was what he was going to do.

He saw his chosen location coming up and he increased his speed. Then, he pushed on the brake and felt the car skid and start to spin. Carefully, he turned the wheel enough to keep the car from losing control completely but so that it would _look_ out of control to any witnesses.

The car slammed into the embankment and Dale was relieved to feel the air bags inflate as the car hit, spun and hit again.

For better or for worse, the deed was done. Director Carew had his accident. Wherever he really was, he now had his cover for it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"_...and while there is no confirmation at this time, witnesses say that the car spun out before hitting the embankment. The driver was able to get out with few injuries, but whoever the passenger was doesn't seem to have been so lucky. We'll bring you more details on the crash that brought the Beltway to a screeching halt as they come in."_

Tamara turned off the television. She recognized the car. She recognized the driver. For all that she hadn't been married to Levi for almost twenty years, she still recognized the official CIA car. She recognized it, and somehow, she knew that Levi hadn't been in that car but that, by tomorrow, everyone would believe that he had.

Levi had gone to save their daughter, and Tamara counted herself a fool for not realizing exactly what Levi had said when she had accused him of not doing anything for Brianna. Levi didn't lie, but he had perfected the art of distracting from the truth with seemingly-casual statements.

"_I will do the same for our daughter as I would for any one of my agents like her."_

Those last two words. _Like her_. There was only one agent like Brianna because only one agent was the daughter of Levi Carew. Levi had said that he would do the same for Brianna as he would for any other. ...any other child of his, and they had no other children left. He had already planned on going after her but he hadn't bothered to tell Tamara the one thing that would have eased her mind and diffused her anger.

She didn't have to wonder why. She knew. Levi would never admit to a human frailty like love or affection or caring. Emotion. He hadn't shown such things in a long time. Perhaps they really were gone; maybe there was nothing left of the man she had known and loved. Maybe the director of the CIA was all that remained...but he was saving their daughter. He was going to do everything he could to save her.

Regardless, he was gone. Gone to save Brianna, and whatever else he had chosen to do, it must be dangerous because he would have gone through official channels, otherwise.

She had given so much and lost so much to the CIA, and now, she could lose what remained. Alone in her home, Tamara bowed her head and started to cry.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ziva stayed in Tim's apartment for a long time. Then, she gathered up Jethro's things and took the dog to Gibbs' place. She was unsurprised to see everyone else there when she arrived. She went in.

"He is gone," she said. "And Ray is alive."

That last had been unplanned, but it got their attention.

"Ray?" Tony asked. "You mean...Ray Cruz?"

"Yes. He is working with Carew. He was at the airport."

"But..."

Ziva just shook her head, not wanting to get into that.

"How did Tim seem?" Abby asked, rescuing her from the discomfort.

"Nervous, but he was ready. I think that...as long as it is possible, he will be fine."

Gibbs raised an eloquent eyebrow.

"It seemed to be dangerous, but Tim was ready for it. I do not know where they will be going. He asked me to bring Jethro to you to take care of until he comes back."

Ducky sighed.

"I am glad that Timothy is recovering, but I'm worried for him."

"Yeah," Tony said. That was all.

"Tim said that we could not worry about him all the time."

"Yeah, right," Abby said.

"That is what I said."

"Cynthia is going to be their home base," Gibbs said.

"So...maybe we could talk to him sometimes?" Abby asked.

"Tim said he'd like that."

Privately, Ziva planned on speaking to Cynthia and being there every time Tim called. It was the least she could do...be there whenever Tim was in communication.

"Where do you think they'll be going?" Jimmy asked.

"It could be anywhere," Ducky said. "The last time, Timothy was in Saudi Arabia. It could be there. It could be anywhere in the world. We have no idea where they might be going."

"There's someone who might know," Tony said suddenly.

"Who?" Ziva asked. "I cannot imagine that Carew has told many people about this. If any."

"Tim's shrink," Tony said. "Tim said that he was Carew's shrink, too. He'd be the most likely one to know."

"Not necessarily," Gibbs said. "But you can try."

"I hate that there's nothing we're supposed to do this time," Tony admitted. "Last time...at least we could look for him, at least we could help him when we found him. This time..."

"All we can do is wait," Jimmy said.

"And hope for the best," Ducky added.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Roy Morgan, deputy director of the CIA, sat at his desk and read through the public release he'd just composed. Yes, he could have got someone to write it up for him, but since he was writing it before he could conceivably have received the news, it was better that he keep the secrets as close to himself as possible.

_CIA Director Levi Carew's car was involved in a single-car accident. His driver was fortunate to walk away from the crash uninjured, but it has become necessary that Roy Morgan, deputy director, step in and become acting director until such time that Director Carew may resume his duties._

He looked at it again and again. No direct lies there. People would assume that it meant that Carew had been seriously injured, necessitating Roy's (hopefully) temporary promotion. Carew would be satisfied with it. Roy had worked with him for a few years now, and while he found Carew to be a bit eccentric in a lot of ways, he also respected him for what he tried to do. He'd do his best to continue on the track that Carew had set in place. And that meant to use as few lies as possible, although Roy had little compunction about lying when he felt it was necessary. This time it wasn't.

His thoughts were disturbed by a knock at his office door.

"Mr. Morgan?"

"Yes, Marjean?"

"Have you seen the news, sir?"

"Yes. Any calls yet?"

"No, but...I saw the car. It looks bad."

"I'm sure it does. When the calls come in, let them know I'm aware of what's happened and I'll meet with them tomorrow. The only one you have to put through to me right away is the President."

Marjean's eyes went wide. "Do you think he'll call?"

"He might. Be ready for that."

"Okay, sir."

Roy smiled encouragingly and gestured for her to close the door. Marjean gave lie to the perception people had of the CIA. She was open, honest and really not adjusted to the world of high politics. She'd never be an agent, but she was wonderful as his assistant. He would never regret hiring her.

He thought about Carew's mysterious task. He hoped that all would go well. He wasn't really ready to be the director. Not yet, anyway.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim slept for a few hours but he woke up before the plane landed. He returned his seatback to its upright position and looked over.

Carew was awake and staring out the window with an almost-pensive expression on his face. Tim wasn't sure he'd ever seen him like that before.

"Carew," he said softly.

Instantly, the expression was gone.

"You'd better get used to using my first name...and hearing me use yours."

"Why?"

"Because where we're going to be ending up, I don't think we want to seem so formal, and I don't want to risk people recognizing my name."

"Fine, Levi," Tim said, suppressing how odd it felt to be using his given name.

Carew smiled faintly.

"Why Ray? You knew he'd be at the airport when you said Ziva could come. You must have known about them. Why? You've put Ray in a situation that's..."

"Unfair?"

"I guess."

"His options were death, prison or this. What good would the first two do anyone, including him? Depending on your religious belief, that would be condemning him. No, he's not happy, but he has the potential to progress."

"How? When he's isolated the way he is, how can he get any better than he is?"

Carew gave a faint smile.

"And when is it that you got better? When people were trying to force you to or when something changed inside?"

"I still needed people not to give up on me."

"Maybe so. At this point, Ray has what he really wants."

"What?"

"Punishment. Punishment for what he did. Nothing less would suffice for what he feels. If I tried to take that possibility away, he'd probably be dead."

"He wants to be."

"Not really. If he did, he would be. He's armed at all times. He's in dangerous situations. If he wanted to be dead, Ray Cruz would be dead. He doesn't want that. He wants atonement."

"Is this going to give it to him? He doesn't deserve this."

"That's entirely up to him. If he wants it to change, it will. As long as he _feels _it's what he deserves, this is what it will be."

Tim sighed.

"Regardless, we'll be landing soon. While I appreciate your concern for Ray Cruz, I need you to focus on the situation we're in. I'm going to send you to speak to our source by yourself."

"What?"

"You're the only one of the three of us who doesn't have to worry about being seen. Once we leave the country, it'll become less worrisome. We won't be in places where my face will be familiar."

"Okay...so if this eccentric person needs confirmation that I'm sent by you..."

Carew smiled.

"Dust in the wind."

"Why did you pick that kind of a code?"

"Because it's ridiculous. We get so used to doing things one way that we forget how simple things can be sometimes. There are complexities involved in espionage, absolutely, but even we have been corrupted by James Bond."

Tim laughed, a bit unwillingly.

"Okay. So...who is this guy I'll be meeting?"

"William Joyce. Goes by Bill. He's extremely intelligent, very creative, but he's also more than a little bit strange. He'll be completely open one minute and then suspicious the next. If you're willing to roll with the punches, then, you'll be fine. You'll be able to speak his language; so that will work in your favor."

"How am I getting there?"

"Taxi works best."

"He's not in hiding, then?"

"Not particularly. His role was kept pretty quiet and when he wanted out, we let him _be_ out. He's not the kind of guy you want to deal with if he's resentful."

"What exactly do you want me to get from him?"

"As much background as you possibly can. You need to get up to speed more quickly than I can help you with. I know he's been keeping up with where we are. If he's heard anything, too, that would be useful. Try to keep the visit down to two hours. We need to get moving again as quickly as we can."

Tim nodded.

"Okay."

"_We're headed down. Please get buckled in if you aren't already."_

Carew gestured to Tim who walked over to his own seat and secured his seatbelt. The plane descended into Las Vegas.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The taxi turned off the Strip and drove a couple of blocks east before pulling into a large complex of buildings that looked too nice for someone Carew had described as eccentric and suspicious. Still, he was sure that Carew hadn't been lying about the address.

"Here we are, sir."

"Thanks." Tim leaned forward and paid him. "Keep the change."

The driver nodded his thanks and Tim got out, staring up at the fancy building, taking a deep breath and then walking to the door. He punched in the security code Carew had given him and was a little surprised when the door actually opened. Carew definitely had his information right so far.

Tim headed up the stairs, rather than taking the elevator, and walked to the door with the number Carew had given him. He took one more breath, knocked and then waited.

He heard some scrabbling around the door and he looked at the peephole...and then, waved. Chains and a deadbolt were removed and the door opened.

The man he saw was a little past his prime, balding, bespectacled...and currently scrunching up his face at Tim's presence. Then, he groaned.

"Oh, no. The dust is in the wind, isn't it."

Tim nodded.

"Bill Joyce?"

Bill nodded.

"I guess I have to let you in. Give me a second."

The door closed and there were some sounds Tim couldn't identify. Then, the door opened again...and Tim saw what looked like a decon shower of some sort set up right inside the door. Bill was dressed in a decon suit gesturing quickly.

"I'm not taking any chances...which means you're not, either. Come in."

Tim wondered if this would be worth it, but he stepped over the threshold.

"Let's just get you clean," Bill said, closing the door behind him. He grinned a little creepily for a moment. "You never know who might be listening in."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Tim let Bill put him through decon, all the while wondering if this strange man was going to go ape and do something else with this little shower. Still, he said nothing about it, and Bill said nothing as well. After he'd finished, he deconstructed the little shower he'd set up and gestured for Tim to precede him into the main room.

It was a nice condo, a large open concept with floor-to-ceiling windows (all closed tightly).

"Nice place you have here," Tim said. "Do all the condos come with decon?"

Bill actually chuckled which made Tim feel a little better.

"Nope. Mine was made to order. Cost about three thousand dollars but I consider it worth the peace of mind it gives me."

"Peace of mind?"

Bill's eyes narrowed.

"Carew told me that you would be able to bring me up to speed on the smartdust," Tim said quickly. "I'm pretty new to all this."

"Oh. Well, when you know as much as I do about the potential and the breakthroughs, you might start feeling a bit paranoid, too."

"Okay. So tell me."

Bill plomped down on a chair and gestured.

"Have a seat. What do you want to know?"

Tim sat down and leaned forward, trying not to notice that there was not a speck of dust anywhere in this condo. "I know that the person who started it disappeared, that he probably took what he knew with him and has probably sold it to someone else or else has had it stolen from him, whether he's alive or dead. I know that the CIA got you working on it, with the extra boost of the progress that had been made already."

"And how much do you know about smartdust?" Bill asked. It was a definite challenge.

"I know enough to know that there's a lot I don't know."

"Good answer. I guess you have a name?"

Tim smiled. "Last I checked. Tim McGee."

"Okay. So, Tim, you're a pretty smart guy, I take it?"

"I've had my share of experience," Tim said neutrally.

Bill raised a skeptical eyebrow but then shrugged.

"Okay. Smartdust. When it works like it's supposed to, any speck of dust you see could be recording light, sound, pressure, anything. Obviously, you need a lot of dust to get a full spectrum of data, but it's easy to get dust. Dust is everywhere."

_Except here,_ Tim thought to himself.

"Smartdust, of course, is harder. What I did was focus on miniaturization because that's the obstacle anyone who wants to make smartdust faces. How small can you really make a recording device?"

"I'm guessing that it's smaller than I think."

"How small do you _think_?" Bill challenged.

"I read something about a cell, but they couldn't really control it and to be useful, you need to control what you're doing with the dust."

Tim got the feeling he was being tested, even though he'd already claimed ignorance. Bill waved his hand at Tim's mention of cells.

"No, no. We're not talking about living things being injected into a body. No matter what the doctors say, that's not what's important. No. That's not smartdust. Smartdust is not alive. It's a device. A really, really, _really_ small device. Manmade, but tiny. Nanotechnology. We're getting there. A little mote of dust floating in the air that is actually taking measurements. It's recording what you say, what you do, what you're expelling with every breath. It's a network of literally millions of other motes all networked together, reporting back to the home base."

"Why couldn't it be biomolecular?" Tim asked. "Design a cell that would do what you want it to do. It would be self-replicating if you could manage it."

Bill tsk-ed again.

"No. You have to anticipate what you want the thing to sense if you do that. You have to design the cell to be attracted to a particular invader or something like that. Let the doctors do that. We don't know what we'll be wanting to get. We want passive motes that will float around until activated by sound, light or whatever else." Bill suddenly jumped to his feet and began to gesture wildly. "Picture this. You know that there's going to be a meeting of say...the OPEC board...or whatever they have. You know where it's going to be. You want to know what these people are going to be saying, but you can't get anyone in there. If you're caught eavesdropping, that would be problematic. Instead, you get close to the building and you release millions of motes into the air, into the air conditioning. They get circulated throughout the building. You'll get some stuff that's not useful, but then...suddenly, you get a sound file, a recording saying that they're going to be trying to raise the price and decrease the product available. Which is what always happens. Maybe that's not a good example."

Tim smiled.

"Regardless, you need a lot of motes because they have a limited capacity for recording what they can pick up...but if it's dust motes, who cares? We can make millions, billions...and no one would know. They'd be wirelessly networked to each other and all you'd have to do is wait for the data dump."

"And right now? What's our capability?"

"Ours?"

Bill ran out of the room and was back in a second with a ruler in his hand. He sat down by Tim and gestured.

"This is a millimeter."

"Yes, I'm familiar with it," Tim said.

"Ten years ago, that was the best we could do...but we could do it. That's still not dust. Dust is smaller than a millimeter. We're talking about half a micrometer...at least."

"And?"

"And...last I knew, _we_ haven't managed to do that yet." He started waving the ruler around. "We've got microelectromechanical systems that we use pretty regularly, but so far nanoelectromechnical systems aren't practical. We don't have the equipment, the tools, the technology, not for anything practical and useable."

Tim looked around the condo again.

"It's awfully clean in here," he said. "How long have you been in this place?"

"Since I stopped taking the CIA's money and let them know I was done."

"Do you leave?"

"Yes, but I always go through decon when I come back in."

"Bill...what do you know about what _others_ have done?" Tim asked. "You said that _we_ haven't managed it yet, but if you thought we were on top, you wouldn't be so worried. This isn't paranoia, not completely. ...unless it's the kind of paranoia that also allows for the reality of what you're worried about. What do you know?"

"I don't _know_ anything, but I keep my eyes and ears open."

"And the dust is in the wind?" Tim asked.

"It could be. It _must_ be if Carew's sending you to talk to me about it."

Tim shook his head. "No. This is more than Carew. Come on, Bill. There's not a speck of dust in this place. You're not out of it by any means, are you."

Tim got to his feet and looked toward one of the closed doors. He saw Bill start to shift anxiously and he knew he was right. He walked over to it.

"What will I see in here?" he asked. "What's behind this door?"

Bill said nothing. Tim turned away from the door and back to Bill.

"That was more than decon you put me through, wasn't it. This is a clean condo, isn't it."

"Not completely. I have good filtration in here, but not good enough for that. Not for the entire place."

"Just in this room. In there. What's your energy bill like every month?"

Bill suddenly smiled toothily. "I said that I stopped taking the CIA's money."

"But you didn't say that you'd stopped using their resources," Tim finished. "Carew said you got out."

"I did. I'm out."

Tim raised an eyebrow.

"As far as most of the world is concerned. I only pass on what I think is necessary. I can tinker to my heart's delight for the rest of my life."

"In there."

"In there."

"That's a clean room," Tim said. He didn't ask. "If I open the door..."

"It won't be a clean room anymore."

Tim walked away from the door and back to the couch. He sat down again.

"Okay, Bill. What do you know? What do you surmise? What's the next step coming down the pike? Or is the next step already here and we haven't seen it yet?"

Bill got up and walked into another room. He came back out with a laptop.

"Okay, Tim. Here it is."

He loaded up a program and Tim was suddenly looking at a schematic. He looked...and then, he looked again. He noticed the scale.

"No way."

Bill smiled.

"Where did you get this?"

"Here and there. I really can't tell you more than that because I don't know. It's kind of a listserv...only a little more exclusive than most."

"A little," Tim said. He leaned forward, taking in the complexity, the detail. "When?"

"Two days ago."

"So they didn't anticipate by much, did they."

"Who?"

"Never mind. This is a bottom-up design?"

"Yeah, seems to be. Whether or not it actually works is another matter, you know."

"I know. Replication from the nanoscale...that's crazy."

"Dangerous, too, if you believe the science fiction stuff."

Tim nodded. "I need this."

"Why?"

"Because I can't absorb it all in the time I have here. I need to be able to look through it in more detail and understand just what I'm getting into."

"If you're getting into _this_, Tim, you're not getting into a safe little cubicle. There's a risk to me in letting you take this with you."

Tim laughed hollowly. "I know the danger more than you could possibly imagine."

"Oh, really?" Bill sounded skeptical.

Tim leaned over and pulled off his shoes and socks. Then, he lifted up his feet.

"You can't see the marks as well as you could last year, but they're there. I have a plate in my face from where my orbital was cracked. I still can't run without feeling some pain. I have literally gone crazy from the kinds of things that I've done and been forced to do. I know how dangerous the game gets, and I'm not in it voluntarily...but I have things to do and I'm not going in with one hand tied behind my back because some little man hiding in a luxury condo doesn't want to risk losing his little toys. This seems to be more of a game to you, a dangerous game, but a game. It's not a game to me. This is my life on the line."

Bill looked at his foot and then, without asking for permission, he reached out and felt around Tim's eye. The scars were there on his face, too, although they had also faded with time. Then, he picked up his laptop and walked back into his room. Tim was left alone for a few minutes. He didn't get back up. He just put on his socks and shoes and waited.

Finally, Bill came back in with a pile of paper. Copies of schematics, data, and what looked like listserv discussions.

"Carew picked the right guy to come here."

Tim took the pile and stood up.

"Why?"

"Because I never would have given this stuff to anyone else. He's tried to get me to share before."

"Why say no?"

"Who wants to be dragged into that crap again?" Bill asked. "You're right. It's a game to me...because I could get out of it and I did. I can approach it as if it's just a game. I don't share results with people who matter; so I can't be affected...and I can take steps if they try to force me."

"Well, I've got to get back."

"Good luck. You want to see what's in the clean room?"

Tim smiled. "Maybe later. Work before play."

"Not for me. Not anymore."

Bill walked Tim to the door, set up his decon so that Tim wouldn't let in a lot of particles when he opened the door. He left, called for a taxi and rode back to the airport. When he got back on the plane, Carew was waiting expectantly.

"And?"

Tim held up the sheaf of paper. He could have sworn that Carew looked a bit surprised.

"Is that everything?"

"I doubt it," Tim said. "But it's enough."

"I knew I chose the right person."

"If you wanted me to get all this, why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because it's more natural if it falls out of what I told you to do, which is get information. You got information and now we can get on our way."

"Where are we headed to?" Tim asked.

"We'll be doing a bit of hopping around to start, but all indications point to your old stomping grounds."

"My old stomping grounds?" Tim echoed in confusion.

"The Arabian Peninsula."

"Oh. Great."

Carew grinned and walked to the cockpit. Tim looked at Ray who just shrugged.

"Anywhere in particular?" Tim asked.

"We'll probably start out in Sana'a...in Yemen."

"Why there?"

"That's where I was."

"Oh."

"You got what you needed?"

"I guess I got what Levi thought I needed."

Ray nodded and fell silent again. Carew came back and sat down.

"We'll be leaving as soon as we get clearance. We have a long trip. Feel free to nap."

Tim nodded, but instead of napping, he sat down and began looking through the material Bill had given. There was a lot to learn.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Cynthia stared at the boxes that had mysteriously arrived at her apartment. She knew what they were. She didn't even need to open them, but she did. As soon as she'd seen them, she had begun the process of converting her spare bedroom into a home base. She was unsurprised to see that she had been given instructions for networking the home base to her computer at NCIS. How considerate of Carew to make sure she could do both jobs at once.

By the time she had to head to work, everything was set up.

She heard the announcement on the radio...and was unsurprised.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"_...what the current status of CIA Director Levi Carew is...we don't know. All officials are remaining remarkably quiet on that information. Acting Director Roy Morgan made a statement that he would be stepping in until Director Carew could resume his duties, but how severe the injuries are and whether or not the enigmatic director will even be able to return to his position, we don't know at this time."_

"_Matthias, that's some accident. Is there a chance that he could have walked away from it?"_

"_Well, Lindsay, the driver did, but it's clear enough from the damage that Carew himself did not walk away."_

"_All right. Well, you heard it here on ZNN. CIA Director Levi Carew was seriously injured in a car accident. Where he's being treated, the extent of his injuries and how long he will be out of commission are all unknown with the CIA refusing to give any information at all. That's the news for..._"

Tony shook his head as he stared. They had all crowded around the TV and were speaking in low tones.

"We know that he wasn't in that car," Tony said.

"I must admit that I find it rather fascinating how the CIA has managed to manipulate without lying," Ducky said. "They have the car. They have an absent director and they make the obvious assumption."

"I hate that we have to say nothing," Ziva said. "We know that Tim is with him, that all this has been a lie."

"But, for Tim's sake, we can keep quiet," Abby said firmly. She spun away from the TV and fled to her lab.

"Boss?" Tony asked.

"Abby's right. That's all we can do."

"And we can keep in contact with Tim as much as we can," Ziva added.

"I wish we knew what he was doing right now," Jimmy said.

"I would guess that he is traveling," Ziva said. "It takes time to get these things started."

"And then, you wish you could stop them," Tony said softly. "And you never can."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Tim spent the first few hours of the trip just reading through all that he'd been given. The more he read, the more amazed he was at how far the technology had progressed...without any publicity about it. Sure, there was the occasional article about nanotechnology, but not anything about real smartdust. That's what he was reading about. Smartdust. Not just small taps. This was microscopic stuff that functioned as a tiny wireless network.

It was fascinating and horrifying at the same time. So much potential for good and evil. ...and who really had control of it? That was the question. Tim looked over at Carew. He appeared to be asleep. Then, he looked at Ray. Ray was _not_ asleep. He was sitting, staring out one of the windows with haunted eyes. Tim felt a rush of pity for him. He wasn't going to have the same chance Tim had been given.

As if he'd felt Tim's eyes on him, Ray turned, noticed Tim's scrutiny and walked over to him.

"Any questions for me?"

"Is Carew keeping anything from me that you know about?"

Ray shrugged. "Maybe. It was his daughter who sent the message."

"Bri?"

"I guess. She changes her name a lot. It keeps people guessing."

"He said before that he was careful about trusting people. Why does he trust you?" Tim asked.

"Because he knows I've got nothing to lose. Why does he trust you?"

"Because he thinks that I'm an honest man."

"Are you?"

"I try to be. It's worked pretty well for me so far."

Ray was silent for a moment and then he looked at Tim with an intense gaze.

"Do you think that Ziva could ever forgive me for what I did and who I've become?"

Tim knew why Ray was asking this, now. He wanted Tim to be completely honest...as he'd claimed he was.

"I don't know. I saw that she pitied you, but pity isn't forgiveness. Part of her anger at you is probably because she's angry at herself for getting taken in."

"It wasn't a con. It was never that."

"I believe you," Tim said. "I just don't know if Ziva does."

"Yeah." Ray took a deep breath and then smiled a little bit. "I'd accepted that I lost her...until I saw her again. I don't want to start thinking about that again."

"I don't blame you," Tim said honestly. "I have things I don't want to think or talk about, either. ...but sometimes, it does help."

"Not me and not now," Ray said. He got up and left Tim staring after him.

He wanted to pursue it, but he decided to give Ray his privacy if that was what he wanted.

Instead, he leaned back and closed his eyes. Maybe he could get some sleep, although he wasn't particularly confident about that.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

There was a jolt, bringing Tim back to consciousness. He sat up and looked around, remembering, finally, that he was on a plane with Carew. There was an awful taste in his mouth and his head was foggy. He yawned and tried to wake himself up.

"Welcome to Yemen, Tim."

There was an unpleasant disturbance with Carew's voice saying his first name. Tim had kept his CIA links so completely separate that Carew had never called him _Tim_ before this had started.

"Thank you," he said grumpily. "We're here?"

"For now. We may not be staying in Yemen the whole time. This is where we need to start."

Tim nodded.

"Ray said that it was Bri who reported this."

"Yes."

"Your daughter."

Carew smiled. "Yes."

"That's why you're doing this. Why it's _you_ and no one else."

"Not completely. This is my mistake and I promised to fix it when I chose to make it thirty years ago. That my daughter needs rescuing, if she's still alive, is merely an added issue to be resolved. If I have to choose between the two, my mistake takes precedence, and she knows it."

"You're saying that now but..."

"I have never put my children's safety before my job," Carew said. "If I didn't feel I could, I wouldn't say that I could."

"So...what's first?"

"First, Ray will check with his sources and then, we'll see where to go next. When we find out, we go and see what we can see."

Tim nodded. Then, he decided to probe how much Carew already knew, how much he had just not bothered to tell Tim.

"They've done it," he said.

"Who have done what?"

"Whoever it is we're after," Tim said. "They've taken that step, at least if the information that Bill gave me is accurate. It's only two, now three, days old, but there is a schematic for real smartdust. We're talking about replication at the nano level. This is dangerous stuff we're talking about here."

"I wouldn't have involved you in something simple," Carew said.

He started for the cockpit, and Tim couldn't believe he was so blase about it. He forced himself to use Carew's first name, just to get his attention.

"Levi, this isn't just about listening in!" Tim said to his back. "There's more to smartdust than a sophisticated wire tap!"

He stopped and turned around, the mask as perfect as ever.

"Is there?"

"Yes!"

"Such as?"

"Nanotechnology is still in the experimental stages, but both you and I know that there's no limit to what people will try to do. If they're able to make smartdust...that's just the beginning. That's only the start of what could be coming next. Someone is going to try and weaponize it...if they haven't already."

Another smile. Tim hated those smiles.

"Precisely."

"You knew?"

"Of the potential, yes. Wiretaps, even as small as dust, can be foiled eventually. It would take time to figure out the logistics, but we'd stop it once we knew it was happening. Technology doesn't stop at one use and that's it."

"There are only two of us," Tim said. "And I hardly have the greatest physical prowess."

"I knew that before. I didn't choose to use your deal with me because I wanted you to wow me with your ability to stagger when pressed."

"Then, why? Why me?"

"Because we're going to be subtle. We don't always need to go in with guns blazing. In fact, that's rarely the best way. You managed to hit upon the most dangerous aspect of this just by reading about it for a few hours. Others would only have focused on the risk of eavesdropping. ...and there are other reasons for having you around."

"What other reasons?"

"You'll see when the time comes."

Tim sighed and watched as Carew left again to talk to the pilots. Ray had already slipped off to wherever he was going. The door to the plane was open and it was sunny outside. The air felt sticky, though. Tim walked over to the door and looked out. It wasn't the Rub' al-Khali, but it wasn't the green of the East Coast, either. He had hoped to avoid coming back here after his last visit.

_But I'm here. There's no point in wasting time regretting it._

He had never thought that he'd be so well-traveled...and so unwillingly.

"Are you ready to get your equipment?"

Tim turned to face Carew once again.

"Yes. What is it?"

"Not what you'd prefer, I'm sure, but we have to be able to travel light. First, communication will be key when we can get it." He handed Tim a phone. "This is keyed in to one location only."

"Cynthia."

"Precisely. She will be our only reliable outside contact. I'd recommend keeping this somewhere that the pickpockets won't get it."

Tim nodded and strapped it around his waste.

"Second, special CIA toys. We will need computer equipment, but laptops are too large. Tablets generally lack computing power."

"But you've worked around that?" Tim asked.

Another Carew smile. He handed Tim a tablet smaller than an iPad. There were no brand stamps on it.

"Who makes these?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Not Apple."

"And these will work like a computer?"

"You'd be surprised."

Carew picked up a rucksack.

"Transfer your things into this. You need to blend in more. We're not here as tourists, nor as an invading force. Neither one of us will pass as natives, but once we get away from Sana'a, it won't matter so much. We'll stick out more, but people will care less."

Tim nodded. He abandoned his bag and then changed his shoes to sturdy hiking boots that had special inserts to cushion his feet. He'd invested in them a few months ago, figuring it was always good to be prepared. He wasn't dramatically changed, but he'd fit in slightly more than he would have otherwise.

"You'll be dirty enough soon," Carew said. "Once Ray gets back, we'll head out."

Tim nodded.

"What are you expecting us to do?"

"Find the man who got away."

"And?"

"Determine if it was under duress or not. If not, then, we kill him and destroy the work he's done for others. Set them back as far as we can."

"Kill him?"

"If he's a traitor, yes."

"And how will you tell?"

"We'll ask him."

"What?"

"Whatever it takes, Tim. That's what we'll be doing. I have no problem with killing him, if he's a traitor. Your job will be to ascertain what he's done, get a hold of it if you can and help destroy it...and that's no matter whether he lives through it or not."

"I know you can do that, but..."

"You won't be pulling the trigger, if that's what worries you."

Tim looked at the tablet, at the rucksack, and thought about what was going to happen. There were clearly a lot of things that could easily go wrong. But it wasn't even just that. Tim was preparing himself to step outside the confines in which he preferred to live his life, into the world without rules, where their actions would never be known and so there was no punishment, no matter what they chose to do.

He looked at Carew, at a man who lived every aspect of his life in this world and had no regrets...at least none that he admitted to. Carew made no move to urge him along. In fact, he had a rather cynical smile on his face, as if he knew exactly what Tim was thinking and didn't care.

Ray came up the stairs.

"Ready?" he asked.

Carew nodded.

"Where to?"

"My base. You can check in and we can start planning your movements. You won't be staying in Sana'a for long. She's not here."

"Is she with them?" Tim asked.

"Near as I can tell," Ray said without emotion.

They got off the plane and followed Ray out of the airport. He led them through the streets of Sana'a to a small apartment above a shop. It was dusty, rundown, and had only minimal comforts. Still, they weren't there to get comfortable. They sat down and spoke in low voices.

"If she's alive, they've taken her with them," Ray said. "If they've left the city already, the soldiers at the checkpoints may have been paid off or threatened. Unrest makes it harder to deal with some of these things. They could also have just avoided any discovery. It's not like they _have_ to follow the roads. Not out here."

"The base?"

"Seems to be somewhere near Zamakh in the Hadhramaut governorate."

"Where's that?" Tim asked.

"Out in the middle of nowhere, near the border with Saudi Arabia."

"Near the Empty Quarter, then," Tim said.

"Yeah."

_Great_, Tim thought to himself. He would rather not get back into that part of the world. It hadn't gone so good for him last time.

"You should check in and verify that your link is working," Carew said.

Tim furrowed his brow for a moment and then looked down at the phone he carried. A chance to get into contact with the people he'd been forced to leave behind!

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Cynthia was checking all the parts of her equipment, making sure the notifications would show up when she was at work, making sure the power hookup was right and that the backups were right, too. It was something she hadn't done for years and yet fell back into as if she'd never stopped.

A knock at her door surprised her and she approached it warily. A quick check in the peephole, and she opened the door.

"Agent David. What brings you here?"

Ziva was standing, a little awkwardly, in the doorway.

"Have you heard from Tim yet?" she asked.

"No. I don't know how long it will be before they come into contact with me, you know."

"I know. If it would not be an intrusion, may I sit here for a while? Just in case?"

Cynthia was surprised at that, but she nodded.

"Of course. If you'd like to."

It was a strange couple of hours that Ziva sat in the living room. She had nothing to say that Cynthia could discern. It was just waiting. Cynthia was about to suggest that she go home when there was a signal, indicating an incoming call. She sat down and checked it, making sure it was of the correct frequency. Ziva had moved over beside her, still saying nothing.

"This is Cynthia, please enter your contact code."

She waited and received the correct sequence of numbers. That would give them a more secure link.

"_Cynthia? This is Tim."_

Ziva let out a sigh of relief.

"Hi, Tim. I was expecting Carew."

"_He's here, but there are some...things they're working out. I'm just verifying the link."_

"You're coming in clear on my end."

"_I'm getting a bit of interference, but there's more dust...in the air...here..."_ The way Tim hesitated over the words made Cynthia wonder. _"Levi? You think?"_

"_Not likely, but we'll check."_

"Something wrong?" Cynthia asked.

"_Not necessarily, but it never hurts to be careful."_

"Tim?" Ziva asked, clearly unable to stay silent any longer.

There was a long pause.

"_Ziva...I didn't expect to hear you, not until we established a schedule of contact. I figured that...it would only be Cynthia."_

"Is it a problem? I can leave."

"_No! No, not at all."_ In fact, Cynthia could hear Tim smiling. _"I just didn't expect it. How's Jethro?"_

"He is fine. He misses you."

"_Yeah, right. He just wants someone to feed him and take him outside."_

"I have missed you."

"_I haven't been gone long yet, Ziva."_

"Do you think you will?"

"_I don't know. Depends on how everything goes. Pretty straightforward at this point. How are things with you?"_

It was so awkward at the moment, but it was contact that neither of them would give up.

"Nothing is very different...on the surface, but we are all thinking of you and hoping you will be all right." Ziva suddenly took a deep breath a straightened. "But you will."

"_If I can...I absolutely will."_

"I will miss you until you come back," Ziva said softly. "All of us will."

"_Thanks."_

That was all he said in reply, but it was as heartfelt as anything else that had been said. Cynthia heard Tim clear his throat and force a laugh.

"_Here I am in the middle...well, at the beginning of a dangerous mission and I'm having a chat like nothing is going on. Cynthia, will you need Levi's link as well?"_

"Ideally, yes. If I know exactly what frequencies are permitted, I can automatically block any others."

"_Levi. Cynthia needs your phone on record."_

"_Understood."_

"_I'd better get off and let some work get done. We're going to try and check in every night at 2230, your time. If there's a delay of more than an hour, you can try contacting us, but only once if we don't answer. If there's no contact in a 24-hour period..."_

"Then, we'll still be waiting," Cynthia said. "I don't shut down until I know."

"And we will not wait, either," Ziva said, almost fiercely. "We will not sit and wonder."

"_I figured you'd say that," _Tim said quietly. _"But you know that..."_

"No," Ziva interrupted. "No, there is no _but_. We will not let you simply disappear with no word."

"_I won't try to argue,"_ Tim said. _"...mostly because I don't want to."_

"Good. Then, that is decided and if it is at all possible, I will be here to hear you."

"_You can't do that, Ziva. You'll have work to do!"_

"I will be here, and if anyone else can, they will, too. ...so long as Cynthia does not get tired of us."

Cynthia smiled and shook her head.

"_Tim, we have work to do."_

"_Right. I've got to get off now, but thanks, Ziva. Thanks for being there."_

"Every time, Tim," Ziva said.

There was a click indicating a disconnect and then another incoming signal. Cynthia took over, knowing that Ziva would have little interest in speaking to Carew.

"This is Cynthia, please enter your contact code."

The code was entered and cleared.

"_Am I clear?"_ Carew asked.

"Completely."

"_Good."_

Ziva leaned forward once more.

"Carew, whether you care about him or not, do not sacrifice him, needlessly."

"_I sacrifice nothing, needlessly. You have the scheduled contact time recorded?"_

"Yes," Cynthia said, even as she hated his completely calm, emotionless voice. "2230 my time."

"_Precisely. We will be on the move with some regularity, but see that you don't let your eagerness for contact make you forget the proper procedures."_

"I've never forgotten procedures, Carew," Cynthia said coldly. "Is there anything else?"

"_Nothing. Enjoy your night."_

There was a click and the conversation was over.

"Thank you, Cynthia," Ziva said. "Are you sure you do not mind?"

"Not at all. It won't be Tim every night, though, you know."

"I know, but knowing that he is in contact is better than what we usually have. ...because what we usually have is nothing."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

They were waiting for a tip from one of Ray's contacts to come through, and the scan of the premises had revealed nothing. Tim walked to the window and looked out onto the streets of Sana'a. They were obviously in a poorer part of the city, but it was quiet at this time of night. As he looked down, a young boy ran beneath him and then stopped and looked up, as if he'd felt Tim's gaze.

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, evaluating.

_Is he dangerous?_

That was the question going through both their minds, no matter what the language was. Then, at the same time, they smiled at each other.

"Afrah!"

The boy looked away and then ran toward the voice.

Tim watched him go and then looked back into the small apartment.

"Well?" he asked.

"We have time. You might as well get some sleep, Tim," Levi said.

Ray pointed to a pallet with a thin mattress in the corner.

"I wasn't expecting guests," he said with a slight smile.

Tim smiled his thanks and lay on the slight padding. He definitely wanted to get some sleep while he could.

He had a feeling this was only the beginning.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

They didn't talk about it at work because there was too much risk of the wrong person hearing them. So they made plans. Jenny knew, but she didn't say anything. There was less pressure to keep Tim's movements hidden, but even so, after the years of pain, anxiety, and danger, they didn't want to tempt fate by acting flippantly.

Tony got to Gibbs' place as soon as he could. Gibbs hadn't said what he wanted to talk about, but they were all going there instead of invading Cynthia's home to talk to Tim (hopefully).

Ziva was already there.

Tony hurried down to the basement. Gibbs, Ziva and Ducky were already there.

"No Abby?"

"She's already at Cynthia's," Ducky said. "In case Timothy calls early."

"He will not," Ziva said.

"Of course, not, but when has that mattered for Abigail?"

"Never."

"What's going on, Boss?"

Gibbs gestured for him to sit.

"We're not going to depend on everything going right," he said.

"When I was there yesterday, Tim said that, if they did not call every day, that we should assume something had gone wrong," Ziva said. "And if they did not call within 24 hours of the agreed time, that we should..."

"No," Tony said, before she could finish.

"I said the same."

"So we need to have a plan if that happens," Gibbs said.

"I can see an immediate problem," Ducky said.

"What?"

"We don't know where they are. I would say that the Middle East is likely, given the situation, given Timothy's past experiences, but that does not confine our search much."

"Could Cynthia trace their signal?" Tony asked.

"I did not ask her, but we should. Tonight."

Gibbs nodded.

"We can't really plan much without knowing where he is," Tony said. "We'd need to have a private plane, and that's not something NCIS has, last I checked. Even though I've put in a request every year. ...and if Carew is gone, we don't exactly have access to _his_ plane."

"We can get a ride, but we have to know where to go," Gibbs said.

"Oh...you're not saying... not another cargo plane!" Tony protested.

Gibbs just raised an eyebrow at him. A head slap would be forthcoming.

"I mean, I _love_ traveling that way," Tony said with a grimace. "But, seriously, even if we can get out there...wherever it might be, they can't give us door-to-door service. We'll have to be able to travel to wherever we go. We'll need visas. There are so many things that we can't plan for without knowing where they are."

"We have to start somewhere, Anthony," Ducky said. "We have the benefit of being given notice this time. This is very different from what we have all suffered through in the past. Not only do _we_ have notice, but Timothy did as well. While the situation is serious, we can prepare...and hope that our preparations are not needed."

Tony nodded reluctantly, and then suddenly, he had a thought.

"Okay. This might sound weird, but I had an idea."

"Yes, you having an idea is definitely strange," Ziva said, although she smiled as she spoke.

"Ha ha. Very funny. What do you think the odds are that Dr. Hicks could help us out if we needed it?"

"Dr. Hicks?" Ducky repeated in surprise. "Why him?"

"Because we don't know anyone else that we'd really trust at the CIA...at least that might have some authority."

"He's a shrink, Tony, not an agent," Gibbs said.

"But he probably knows people who have authority...and he already knows about this stuff, too. We can't ask Fornell for help, even though he'd probably love to have you owing him, Boss."

"Yes," Ziva agreed. "The FBI is still too eager to get control of Tim. We should not let them realize that he is gone. They may figure out what is happening."

"What do you think?"

"I think we have nothing to lose by asking him," Ducky said.

"And Tim trusts him," Tony added. "That means a lot."

"Carew trusts him as well," Ziva said. "It means more that he is trusted by both men."

"All right. Tomorrow."

Tony nodded.

"For now, let's go...and save Cynthia from Abby."

Ziva laughed, and they all headed to the apartment together.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I hope you don't mind my being here early," Abby said...for the twentieth time.

"No, I don't," Cynthia said...also for the twentieth time.

She didn't, although she did miss the relaxation and solitude she generally had at the end of the day. Abby wasn't a calm and relaxed person and so she had to give up on that for tonight. Hopefully, _only_ for tonight.

"It's just that I really want to hear that Tim's okay. He can't be great, not with what's going on, but he could be okay."

"Abby, it may not be him checking in. It could be Carew."

"Tim will be there."

"Probably, but there's no guarantee of that, and they won't call early. That's not how this works. It'll be on time or late or not at all."

"But..."

Cynthia sat down.

"Abby, I have a lot of experience with this kind of thing. I know how it works. Tim won't call early, not ever. On time, late or not at all. We decide on a time to call for a reason."

Abby sighed. "I know. You think I'm being stupid, but I've seen how much all this stuff has hurt everyone. I can't really be part of it because...because I'm separate from it all. Tony and Ziva are a part of it. Gibbs is. I'm not and I can't be. So I just want to be able to see that they're okay."

Cynthia was surprised at the awareness Abby was showing. She hadn't thought Abby could be that mature.

"They may not be, you know."

"I know."

"Okay. Just so long as we're on the same page. ...and please don't come this early every night."

Abby smiled. "I won't."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart."

Cynthia smiled in return.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Early in the morning, the sky was getting lighter and Tim woke up on the grungy, thin mattress Ray had given him. He sat up, remembering that he was in Yemen...unfortunately. He yawned.

"What time is it?" he asked the room at large.

"Time to check in," Carew said.

Tim got up quickly and walked to where Carew was sitting at the small table. He pulled one of the chairs over.

"Where's Ray?"

"Checking with his contact."

Tim nodded and then tried not to look too eager as Carew connected to Cynthia.

"_Hello, your signal is clear."_

Tim smiled at the professional tone, but he let Carew speak first.

"Good evening, Cynthia," Carew said. "We are still in our original location but should be on the move in the next day."

"_Do you anticipate being on the move often?"_

"Yes," Carew said. "We will be moving constantly once we start."

"_Is Tim there?"_

"Yes." Carew gestured.

Tim moved forward.

"Who's here tonight?" he asked.

"_Everyone!"_ Abby said.

Tim laughed a little.

"_How are you doing, Tim?" _Ziva asked.

"Fine," Tim said. "We're just waiting and planning right now."

"_How are your feet?"_ Tony asked.

"Fine, right now. Haven't done much with them, though. Not yet."

"_Take care of yourself, McGee,"_ Gibbs said.

"I'll do my best," Tim said.

The door opened and Ray came in. He clearly had news.

"Oh, we've got to go," Tim said. "Talk to you tomorrow."

There were multiple _good-bye_s. Then, Tim disconnected and looked at Ray.

"What's up?" he asked.

"My contact says there's a group of men headed out of town tomorrow night. They're supposed to be headed to a rendezvous."

"With whom?" Carew asked.

"Unknown, but he heard them talking about a woman. Could be nothing, could be the information we need to track down exactly where these guys are going. The question is, do you want to follow them?"

"Why tomorrow? Why the delay?" Tim asked, feeling unsure about this. It seemed too simple.

"Don't know," Ray said. "They could be making plans to avoid the checkpoints. They could be waiting for instructions. They could know about us and are planning to take us out first. No way of knowing unless you want to risk getting close to them and being discovered."

"We don't want that," Carew said. "We'll have to risk the last."

"I don't like this," Tim said. "It seems too easy that we're looking for people who are making this smartdust and we suddenly find someone who is going to meet up with them?"

"You could be right," Ray said, although he didn't seem very concerned.

"How much do you trust this contact?"

"About as far as I can throw him, but he hasn't got me arrested yet. I pay him for his time. That makes a difference. How's your Arabic?"

"I can ask for help and say thank you. That's about it. Oh, and I know the words for water and opium."

Ray smiled a little. "While we're waiting and planning, maybe I can teach you a little more."

Tim returned the smile. "Okay."

There was always something to do, something to worry about, but for now, Tim was willing to take the time, and he liked the idea of having someone to practice his Arabic on.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Well, that was short," Tony said.

"I hope you weren't expecting more," Cynthia said.

"Hoping, not really expecting."

"Could you trace their position?" Gibbs asked.

"No, not with the way it's set up. The whole point is that they're _not_ traceable...in case the home base is compromised."

"What are the odds of that?" Abby asked.

"Considering how many people in _this_ country would like to get control of Tim?" Cynthia asked. "I'd say that we don't want to take the risk."

"But is it possible?"

"Look, I know you're all worried about Tim's safety, but you're risking more than you think by trying to break their secrecy right now. There's a reason for keeping their location hidden."

"What if something goes wrong?" Tony asked. "Then, what do we do?"

Cynthia smiled sadly. "The same thing I'll be doing: hoping they can get out. The difference is that I don't have to give up like I did when I was doing this for a living. There's no one to order me to abandon them. But you have to understand what the limitations are. We don't know where they are, although Tim almost let it slip once. We can't trace this link. We're not supposed to be able to. I don't have any connections to get us there even if we _did_ know where they were. It's not like we can call in favors, not with everyone wanting to get control of Tim. You're already doing more for him than most people get."

"What are we doing?" Ziva asked. "We are just sitting here."

"Yes. You're sitting here, talking to him for two minutes rather than let him go without hearing your voices. That matters. It really matters to know that people care and won't be giving up. I know you want to be here for yourselves, but you're helping him, too...even if he doesn't say anything."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I don't think I'm ever going to be fluent in Arabic," Tim said after a few hours.

"Well, if worse comes to worst, you can always throw some insults at them," Ray said. "I've learned more than my share. They're pretty serious when you use them."

"Thanks, but I think I'd rather not give someone more of an excuse to hurt me," Tim said.

"If they catch you, you don't have much to lose."

Tim shook his head. "I _always_ have something to lose."

"Lucky you." Ray pulled out a map. "You didn't seem to know where anything was out here. You should know where you're going...in case something happens."

Tim nodded.

"So...we're here in Sana'a." He pointed to the west part of the map. "We'll be leaving tomorrow, but there are some problems with that. There are checkpoints on all the roads."

"From the government or military?"

Ray smiled cynically. "Some of them are. Those are the easy ones. They look in the car and let you go. No, Yemen is...unstable. The civil war ended twenty years ago, but the government is too weak to unify the country. There are checkpoints set up by people who just want rob and/or kill whoever comes through. There are checkpoints set up by local tribesmen for kidnapping purposes."

"Kidnapping?"

"It's an acceptable way of raising money and mediating disputes around here. The hostages are rarely hurt."

Tim's eyes widened. This really was a different culture. He hadn't really been coherent enough to notice when he'd been in Saudi Arabia before.

"Once the dispute is over, the checkpoints go away, and nothing is done about it. The problem is that we don't want to be noticed, and if we run into the wrong group, we could get into big trouble."

"Where will we be going?"

"Well, if this group is really related to the smartdust people, they'll start heading to Zamakh."

"Is that a city?"

"Hardly. It's a district, an area in the larger governorate of Hadhramaut. The whole section only has about 1500 people living there. It's in the north part of the governorate. Most of the population is south of the Hadhramaut mountains. I haven't been out there yet myself. Don't want to tip our hand, but everything I know about it says that there's nothing out there, really. Nothing official, anyway. We might run into a couple of people out there, but really, the people we'll see, if we see anyone, will probably be involved."

"How do you know that they're at Zamakh?" Tim asked. "If you haven't been there and we're not sure of who they are..."

"It's like everything else I've been doing. I make connections and get information. Sometimes, the info is wrong. Sometimes, it's right. I'm as sure about Zamakh as I can be."

"Who did you get the information from?"

"Local guy who doesn't like people making trouble for the region. The more terrorism we trace to the Middle East, the more trouble the people who live here will have. Some, maybe even most, don't care about who wins. They just want to be left alone, and that can't happen when people are plotting to attack the West...because West tends to blame the entire culture rather than a few extremists who often don't even belong in the areas they operate from."

"Sounds like you know them pretty well."

"Well enough," Ray said and got to his feet. "I'll go and get the supplies we'll need. If we're going to follow them, we won't be able to stop and buy what we need later."

Tim nodded. Before Ray left, though, Tim had a question, and it popped out of his mouth before he could think about the wisdom of it.

"What do you think you'll get from all this, Ray? Really, what do you think will be the end result of all that you're doing?"

Ray paused and looked at Tim for a long time.

"If I'm lucky, I'll be killed." He laughed humorlessly. "I'm not brave enough to kill myself. But maybe...if that doesn't happen, maybe I'll be able to...take a step toward making up for what I did. Nothing can fix it, but spending the rest of my life in Hell...maybe that will keep me from spending eternity there, too." Then, he walked out the door.

Tim stared after him and sighed. The similarities that he could see between himself and Ray were much too obvious. A year ago, he would have felt exactly the same way. He wanted to help him get the same reprieve he had received...but without some willingness on Ray's part, there was nothing that could be done. Tim knew that from personal experience. It was only when he finally agreed to get the help he so desperately needed that he'd been able to recover.

But there was so much more to worry about that he turned his attention to the small tablet that Carew had given him. When he was already worrying about the use of nanotechnology, he supposed he shouldn't really wonder how they'd got enough processing power into something this small. Instead, he focused on seeing just what it _could_ do. There was a lot of memory, a lot of empty space. Tim wondered how much of this mission would end up being about destroying what was done and how much would be about getting it for themselves. This was one of those times when Tim felt the fear of being in this world without rules. There was too much gray area. Yes, they needed to stop these people, and it was silly to think that the technology wouldn't keep showing up...but at the same time...was it really any better for the CIA to have it?

_Yes, better...but not very much,_ he thought. _You have enough to worry about right now, Tim. Just focus on living through this. Beat the bad guys and save the girl and get rid of what they've got. You can deal with the rest of it later, if you make it that far._

Tim took a breath and nodded to himself. He couldn't let himself fall into the trap of over-analysis. He had to be able to do his job without sacrificing his identity. This was the first real test of his ability to do that, but he was determined to succeed. He'd made it too far to give up now.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Dr. Hicks' feet were aching as he walked into his office. It had been a bad night, but he tried to avoid painkillers unless the pain was really bad. He might have to take some today. As he got out his keys, he sensed someone nearby and looked up.

"Tony...or should I call you Agent DiNozzo, now?"

Tony smiled. "Tony's fine."

"All right. What can I do for you, Tony? You told me that you already had a shrink and you didn't need another one. Change your mind?"

"No."

Ah, it was about Tim, then. It wasn't a surprise at all.

"All right. Come on inside."

He unlocked the door to his office and limped in.

"Something wrong?" Tony asked.

"The same thing that's been wrong since I was a grad student," Dr. Hicks said. "It just hurts more some days than others. Today is a bad day."

He walked to his private office and let Tony inside. Then, he limped to his desk and sat down with a sigh of relief. It felt good to get off his feet. He smiled at Tony and gestured for him to sit down as well.

"You're all right?"

"I try to look at this as a blessing. Now, I don't always succeed, but it's a reminder of what I've got now, what I might have not had at all. So...what do you want? I hope it's not to know what we talk about in his sessions. I can't do that."

"You don't seem very surprised to see me," Tony said.

"Well, I didn't know if it would be you specifically, but this is a situation where you might be searching for some kind of reassurance that Tim will be all right, that he's as prepared as he can be for what's happened."

"And?"

Dr. Hicks laughed. "Yes."

"That's it?"

"That's not what you wanted?"

"Well, that wasn't exactly what I wanted."

"Oh. Well, then..." He gestured.

Tony took a breath.

"If we needed to track down where Tim was, could you help us?"

Dr. Hicks laughed again, this time out of surprise. "What?"

"We don't want to depend on things going right out there...wherever that is."

"You think I know? I'm sorry to disappoint you. I have no idea."

"No, but..." Tony shrugged. "We don't have many options. We can't ask anyone for help. NCIS isn't exactly known for having a huge budget...and we don't want to attract attention to the fact that he's gone. If we needed the help, would you be able to...do something?"

"To be honest, I have no idea," Dr. Hicks said. "I'm a psychiatrist for the CIA. Except for the fact that I'm Director Carew's shrink, I don't know how much pull I'd have...if any. I can try to find out if you'd like. I can't make any guarantees."

"Really...we'd take anything...and hope we don't need it."

"All right. I'll see what I can do, but I'm not making any promises."

"That's fine."

Dr. Hicks was sympathetic, more than Tony knew. Sometimes, it was almost as hard being the people left behind. He leaned forward.

"How are all of you doing?"

"He hasn't been gone long."

"Doesn't matter. You know that what he's doing is going to be dangerous. He's with someone you don't trust, and you're stuck with a feeling of impotence. That's hard to deal with."

"He's not keeping us away this time," Tony said after a minute. "Every other time, he's tried to hide from us, tried to keep us from knowing how he feels... It's so much better than it was. That means something."

"Good." Dr. Hicks leaned back and felt the throbbing in his feet. Yes, today would be a painkiller day. "I'll let you know what I find out."

"Thanks."

Tony stood to go. Just before he was out the door, Dr. Hicks added one more thing.

"Tony, I wasn't kidding before when I said yes. Tim is night and day to what he was before. He can handle this. Yes, it's dangerous, but his mind won't break because of it. He's stronger now than he's been in a long time. I can't guarantee his physical health, but his mental health shouldn't worry you. Not now."

Tony looked at him, smiled a little and nodded. Then, he left the office.

Alone, Dr. Hicks took out his medication and took a dose. It was prescription, but his doctor had told him to take it when he needed to. They knew each other well, and while there was always some temptation to overdo it when the pain got bad, Dr. Hicks never had.

Then, while waiting for the pills to take effect, he made a call. As he waited for an answer, he couldn't help smiling. This would be most unexpected.

"Hello, Acting Director Morgan. This is Dr. Hicks. I have a question for you that I'm sure will surprise you."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Tamara walked into the CIA Headquarters. Sometimes, she wondered why she bothered; sometimes, she wondered why Levi bothered to let her in. It wasn't as though she _had_ to be here...but there was something between them that not even the CIA had managed to kill...and that kept her coming here and Levi letting her in.

As she walked through the halls to the office, she wondered that she felt so easy about it. The assistant looked at her nervously and let her into the office. The door closed, she walked over to the desk.

Everything that her life had been before this office had come into their lives... Tamara sat down on Levi's chair and looked at the world from that perspective. She remembered how blunt Levi had been about what his promotions would mean for them, for their family. She remembered how their marriage had fallen apart as Levi had become more and more closed off from her.

...and she remembered the last-minute deal they had made.

"_For the sake of who you used to be, Levi."_

_That same smile that had taken the place of a real expression._

"_So...you want a divorce but you can't really leave me? That's not very logical, you know," he said._

"_Levi, I love the man you were. I can't love the man standing in front of me, now."_

"_I know."_

"_But I'll give you a chance...when this place isn't your life."_

"_What makes you think I'll live that long?"_

_Tamara actually smiled. "Because you live through everything, Levi."_

_Carew smiled back, but expressed nothing with the smile._

"_And you think it would be worth it?"_

"_Yes. If you do."_

"_It's an interesting experiment, but if you choose to remarry, no hard feelings."_

Life had led to the death of their son and now the possible loss of Brianna. Tamara hated the director of the CIA and all he'd taken from her, but she couldn't help hoping that the man she'd married still existed inside somewhere.

But even if he didn't, she prayed that she'd get her daughter back, at least. Brianna had become harder ever since Quinn had been killed, but she was still human.

She sat in Levi's chair for an hour. Alone.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The day passed too quickly. After the sun set, Tim leaned out of the window and looked down at the empty street below him. As he sat there, waiting for the dangerous stuff to begin, his mind went back to the events that had thrown him onto the course his life had traveled now. Those two months that had left him hating himself and wishing for an escape of some kind. He had been so sure that there was nothing that could save him. Hit after hit had driven him lower and lower until he was completely convinced that there was nothing for him.

Now, he had the hope that he'd lacked...but his life could be on the line yet again.

_Will I ever be able to get off this roller coaster?_ Tim thought to himself.

Whether the answer was yes or no, there was one thing, and it had been a constant in every stage of his life the last few years.

"I want to live through this," he whispered aloud.

No matter what had happened to him, what he'd been forced to do, he had wanted to survive it. Now was no exception. He wanted to survive this, get rid of his obligation to the CIA and live his life.

A life that had become, more and more, defined by what he could do. Tim could admit that he was unlikely to get back to the simple, ordinary life he'd led before all this started. The difference was that he could accept that. As long as he could control his own life to some degree, he could deal with the idea.

He turned his mind back on the smartdust. He tried to think about how this was going to work out. Carew clearly had a plan in mind, but the problem that Tim could see was the small numbers. Two, even three if Ray was with them, didn't seem like enough to sneak into a base, rescue or kill someone and destroy all their work.

"Tim."

Tim suppressed a wince. He still didn't like Carew using his first name. It implied a level of familiarity that Tim had tried to prevent. He turned around.

"I don't like this," Tim said.

"What don't you like?" Carew asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just the two of us invading a base with who knows _how_ many people there? I can't run unless it's really necessary. There's just you."

"It won't be just the two of us unless something goes wrong."

"Ray?"

"No. Ray has other things to do. He's going to get us out of Sana'a and on our way."

"Then, who?"

"A local who knows his way around and doesn't like these people making trouble for the local population. He's worth ten of anyone else."

"Where is he?"

"Recon at Zamakh. We're supposed to rendezvous with him once we figure out what's going on with this other group. If they're a wild goose chase, we leave them and go on our way."

"And if they _are_ a part of it and they know about us?"

Carew smiled.

"Then, you'll get to see just how well your shoes are padded."

"No amount of padding is going to keep my feet from giving out if I run too much," Tim said. "You said you didn't want me for my physical prowess. If that's the case, then, you'd better be ready for the fact that I'm not up to par."

"I'm ready for that."

"I still don't like the idea of following this other group. If we know that Zamakh is the location, then, why don't we just go there?" Tim asked, but then, he cocked his head to the side. "It's because you think Bri might be with them, isn't it."

Carew nodded.

"Ray did get some indication that there is a woman with them. It's hard to say whether or not it's genuine and, if it is, if it's Bri. We're going to find out, and if there's nothing to it, we go on to Zamakh. Either way, we'll be out of Sana'a and beyond the checkpoints. It will be much easier to move on to Zamakh without attention once we're out of the city."

"How long will Ray stay with us?"

"Long enough to ascertain the nature of this group. Then, he'll be about his own business and you and I will head to the rendezvous."

Tim looked at him for a long moment.

"I still don't like this, but fine."

He turned back to his bag and started to repack it. He had a feeling that things were going to get started sooner rather than later.

"Woodrow was right about you."

Tim straightened and turned back. He was surprised to see a quirk of a genuine smile on Carew's face.

"What do you mean?"

"You _are_ ready. Whatever other problems you have, you've resolved this situation with yourself. You won't crack under that weight. I have to admit that I didn't think you could do it. Other people, more experienced agents, have not managed what you have managed to do."

Tim raised an eyebrow, and Carew's smile widened.

"You should know well enough by now that I don't lie to make people feel better."

"Sometimes, I wonder if you've spent your whole life being honest so that you can tell one whopper that everyone will believe."

Carew chuckled...but he didn't answer.

Tim rolled his eyes and turned back to his bag. He had a change of clothes, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to use them. They were packed as tightly as possible. He had the phone strapped to his waist under his clothes. He also had a knife strapped to his back. It was invisible under his clothes. He hoped he didn't have to use it. He had a gun, and he had the electronics. All in all, the bag was as light as he could make it.

...until Ray came, at least.

While he waited, he read through the Arabic phrases that Ray had been trying to teach him, and his mind kept wandering back to this group that had so conveniently showed up in Sana'a. He couldn't help but feel uncomfortable about it. His mind also wandered to the smartdust as well. This felt like a strange dichotomy of targets. Ideally, of course, Bri would be in the same place the lab or whatever was...but if she was with this group, it might be an attempt to divide their attention, give them a chance to move the lab somewhere else.

Bri was the last person he wanted to have to rescue. ...well, the second to last. He really hoped that saving Carew wasn't a necessity, either. He'd do it, but it would be one of those situations where he would _want_ to leave them, and he'd know it was wrong. Besides that, though, while Carew would never say so, he clearly wanted to save his daughter, even if he wouldn't put her first.

Now that the moment was coming, Tim just wished that they'd get started. It was hard to wait.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Dr. Hicks was sitting at his desk near the end of the day when there was a knock on his door. He smiled, knowing who this likely was.

"Come in."

The door opened.

"Dr. Hicks."

"Acting Director Morgan," Dr. Hicks said. "I hope you don't mind if I stay seated. My feet are hurting today."

"I don't mind."

"Have a seat."

Roy sat down across from him, and Dr. Hicks could tell he was evaluating.

"To say that I was surprised at your call is the understatement of the decade."

"I figured."

"What has brought about your curiosity about the current status of Director Carew?"

Dr. Hicks smiled at the careful wording. He leaned forward and decided to throw caution to the winds.

"I know that he wasn't in the car accident. I know he wasn't in the car at all, and that it was by design."

Now, Roy's surprise showed on his face. He looked around the room, only with his eyes.

"I assure you, Director Morgan that this office is extremely secure. It has to be because of the work I do."

"So...why bring it up? You must know the risk."

"I do, but I have a reason for it. Will you listen?"

There was a moment of silence as Roy decided. Choosing to listen was a tacit agreement to answer questions. They both knew it.

"Yes, I'll listen...as long as you understand that there are some things I won't say."

Dr. Hicks smiled.

"Director Carew is training you well, I see."

Roy smiled back and didn't respond. He just waited.

"I won't ask. I know that Director Carew is correcting a mistake he made when he saved my life thirty years ago. I know that much. I know, also, that he has taken Tim McGee with him, and I'm sure you know who that is. What I don't know is where they are. Tim McGee's friends are concerned that if things go wrong, they'll have no backup."

"They won't," Roy said.

"Here is my question. Do you know where they are?"

"No."

He didn't even blink.

"Now, here is the really strange question."

Roy raised an eyebrow.

"If it happened that Tim's friends were able to find out where to go, would you be willing to provide...clandestine transportation to them?"

"I...didn't think you could possibly surprise me any more than you already had just by contacting me," Roy said, carefully. "You're treading on very dangerous ground, Dr. Hicks."

"I understand that, but I was asked to see how far it might be possible to go, and so I'm doing that. I'm not a real player in this game. I just get to kibbitz every so often."

"I'm not even sure I _know_ who the real players are," Roy muttered, almost to himself. "Dr. Hicks, it would be foolish of me to commit myself one way or the other in this situation. However...should this become more than mere conjecture..." He pulled out a card and then wrote on it. "Call me."

Dr. Hicks took the card and saw a phone number written on it. It wasn't his office number.

"Please, don't share that out...and it would help if you'd be willing to forget it after this situation passes."

"Understood."

"Good. Was that everything?"

"Yes, thanks for your time."

Roy just nodded. He stood and left the office without another word.

Well, that had done more than Dr. Hicks thought it would do. It appeared he had a little more pull than he had thought he did.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Ray came back with supplies at about four a.m., local time. Tim had been asleep, but not very deeply. He woke up as soon as the door opened.

"Time to go?" he asked.

"As soon as we get the rest of the stuff packed," Ray said.

"We'll check in with Cynthia on the way."

They quickly divided up the supplies between Tim and Carew. Since Ray wouldn't be coming with them for most of the way, he wasn't packing anything for himself.

Then, with the packs loaded, they left the small flat and headed out. They walked through the streets of Sana'a without being stealthy. They were just a group of guys heading out of town.

Near the north side of the city, Ray led them to a car.

"Where'd this come from?" Tim asked.

"A friend," Ray said. "When we get to the checkpoint, I'll do the talking. It's an official government checkpoint and that means they won't care about us...unless we give them a reason to."

"Got it."

They drove to the checkpoint and were stopped. Tim watched silently as Ray began to converse with the guard. He seemed unconcerned and gave Tim and Carew only a cursory glance before passing them through. It seemed too easy, but Tim kept his mouth shut until they were well on their way out.

"That was easy," Carew said.

"The official checkpoints usually are," Ray said. "This group went out another way, but my source said they'll be headed this direction."

"Away from Zamakh?" Tim asked.

"Yeah. For now."

Carew looked at his watch.

"Tim, call Cynthia."

Tim nodded and pulled out his phone. He quickly dialed the connecting code and waited.

"_Hello."_

"Hey, Cynthia."

"_Tim. How are things going?"_

"They're finally going," Tim said. "We're on our way and, depending on how this part pans out, we might be on the move pretty quickly."

"_Anything you need from me?"_

"An update on science news," Carew said suddenly.

Tim raised an eyebrow.

"_What was that, Tim?"_

"Could you check science news headlines?"

"_Anything in particular I'm looking for?"_

Tim looked at Carew.

"No. Just headlines."

"Nothing in particular."

"_Okay."_

Tim waited.

"_Tim?"_

"Ziva."

"_You sound all right."_

"I am."

"_Jethro misses you."_

"I sure hope you're talking about my dog."

Ziva laughed.

"_Yes...but we all miss you, Tim. Stay safe."_

"As safe as I can."

"_Good."_

"What are you guys doing?"

"_Cases...and...well, we are hoping to hear from you as much as possible."_

"You know how often you'll hear from me."

"_Yes. I know. The others could not be here tonight, but I am here."_

"Ziva..." Tim hesitated. It was hard to have a real conversation when he could see Ray and Carew. Especially Ray. Tim knew he was listening. He could see it in his eyes.

"Ziva, I'm glad you're there."

"_Tim, you ready for the headlines?"_

"Yes, Cynthia."

Tim wasn't really ready, but it was time to work, and he needed to pay attention.

Cynthia started reading science headlines. Tim looked at Carew as she read, waiting for some reaction.

"_New designs for AFM tips could lead to faster and more accurate imaging."_

Carew definitely reacted, but he gestured for Tim to let Cynthia keep reading. She read a couple more headlines and then, Carew stopped her.

"Thank you, Cynthia. That was very helpful."

"Carew, there's someone coming this way."

Carew leaned forward and looked out into the increasing light.

"Cynthia, looks like I've got to go. Thanks," Tim said. "And thanks for being there, Ziva."

"_Always, Tim."_

Tim smiled and disconnected.

"What is it?"

"Could be them," Ray said. "We just need to wait and see."

Tim leaned forward and looked through the windshield. There was a truck ahead of them. It slowed down and a group surrounded it.

"What's going on?"

"This would be one of the unofficial checkpoints."

"Unofficial?" Tim repeated. "What does that mean for us?"

"It means that if we're smart, we'll turn around and take another road," Ray said. "But that means that, if that truck ahead of us is the group we're looking for, we'll lose them."

"What are the odds that these people will be looking to kill us?" Carew asked.

"Impossible to say," Ray said. "They could be wanting to rob, to kill, to kidnap. They could also just be wanting to make sure that we're not with whoever they're fighting with at the moment."

"What are you going to do, Levi?" Tim asked.

Carew considered.

"We don't have forever here, you know," Ray said. "You need to make a decision."

Carew looked at the group ahead.

"We can't take the chance. Find another road."

Ray nodded and turned the car around. He drove for about an hour before heading back the way they'd been going.

Tim didn't say a word. He still thought it was a bad idea to go after this group that may or may not be important when they had a definite hint of where they _should_ be going. However, given that this was possibly the first time he'd seen Carew do anything with some kind of normal human reaction, he figured that his complaint wouldn't be heard. He'd already said it once. Carew had disregarded it. That was the end of it.

Ray didn't care one way or the other. Tim knew that.

The problem was that Tim himself cared. He wanted to survive this thing and go back to his life, a life that was so much better than he thought it could be. He didn't want to lose it, not now.

"There's something ahead," Ray said, interrupting Tim's thoughts.

"Something?"

"Yeah. Something. Not sure what it is. Could be an obstruction. It could be an ambush. It could be nothing. ...but there's no other road to go on. It's this one or nothing."

"Then, go," Carew said.

Ray nodded and the car moved forward again, closer and closer to the dark shape in the road.

It was too large to go over. They couldn't go around it easily.

"I'll see if I can move it," Ray said.

It was starting to get light enough to see.

"I don't like this," Tim said.

"Neither do I, but there aren't too many options, Tim," Carew said. "We can't leave until we find him, and he's not in Sana'a."

Tim nodded and managed to bite his tongue to keep from saying that they could have avoided this by heading straight to Zamakh.

Carew looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"You can say it, if you want."

Tim ignored him and watched as Ray carefully approached the obstruction.

He wasn't careful enough.

It wasn't just any obstruction.

It was a bomb.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ziva got off the elevator and hurried to her desk.

"You're late," Tony said.

"I know."

"Long conversation last night?"

"No. Tim had to cut it short. They're on the move."

Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Any sense of where they are?"

"No. None."

"Dangerous?"

"Tim didn't sound very worried."

"Well, we all know that he can do that, now."

"Yes, but there is no reason to..."

Tony's phone rang. He answered.

"Agent DiNozzo."

"_Tony, this is Dr. Hicks."_

"Oh, hi, Dr. Hicks. What is it?"

"_I told you I would look into answering your question."_

"And?" Tony asked, feeling almost a pained hope.

"_I wasn't able to find out where Tim might be, but...there is a possibility that I could provide you with transportation."_

"Really? How?"

Dr. Hicks laughed.

"_Given the nature of the person I have spoken to, and the fact that your phone is not secure, even if mine is, I'd better leave it at the idea that there's a possibility. It's a possibility only, mind you, but I think it's a good possibility...if you can find out where he is."_

"That's better than nothing."

"_I know. That's why I decided to tell you."_

Tony smiled.

"Are you sure you like working for the CIA? You're way too open and reasonable."

"_I love working for the CIA. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Do you have any other questions?"_

Tony was surprised at how fervent Dr. Hicks sounded. He didn't doubt that Dr. Hicks was completely sincere in his declaration, and with how open and honest he was, Tony wondered how in the world he'd managed to survive working for the CIA, let alone love it. Still, that was beside the point.

"No other questions. Right now."

"_All right. Let me know if you need my help. I'll be as quick as I can...which is pretty quick since I can call without having to run."_

"Thank you, Dr. Hicks."

"_My pleasure. I'd like Tim and Carew to get back safely, too. ...and yes, I do want Carew back safely, even though I know you don't care about him."_

Tony grimaced, but he didn't respond to that.

"Bye."

"_Good-bye, Tony."_

Tony hung up.

"Well?" Ziva asked.

"If we need it, we might have it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He wouldn't tell me how, but the way he was talking, I think he means it."

"Good. I hope we do not need to."

"Yeah. So do I." Tony thought about it for a few minutes. "If they're on the move now and something goes wrong, we won't know about it until they don't call in tonight."

Ziva nodded.

"There's no way of knowing how much could go wrong in a day."

"Or a night. We have no idea how far away they are."

"But we have agreed that they are likely in the Middle East somewhere."

"Yeah."

"That would be a day."

"And that would be something you two don't need to be talking about in the middle of the bullpen," Gibbs said, striding to his desk. "We'll know if we're needed."

"And what if we are?" Tony asked.

Gibbs looked at him, sternly.

"If we are, then we do what it takes to help. Whatever it takes."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim rubbed his cheek and grimaced.

"I wish people would stop hitting me in the face," he moaned.

"Same side as before?"

"No. Other side, thank goodness. I don't know what would happen if they hit that metal plate I still have in there...although it might be a nice surprise for them. I'd love to have my face break their fists."

Carew smiled and then looked over at their captors. Tim followed his gaze and then rubbed his cheek again.

"But I also don't know what that would do to the other bones in my face. So I think I'll pass on that."

"Probably a good idea."

"You think Ray survived?"

Carew shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think he was dead when we left, but they didn't seem to care about bringing him along. They probably think he was about dead."

Tim sighed.

"How did they know what road we were on?"

"They probably paid people to be on the other road. Either they were more aware of our movements than I would expect or Ray's source was playing both sides."

"Which is more likely?"

"The latter, probably. It's always risky if you don't know all the players. This time, that risk didn't pay off."

"Yeah. So what now?"

Carew raised an eyebrow. "We try to get away."

"Yeah, I figured that out," Tim said. "How?"

"Still working on that. I figure they'll probably start trying to figure out exactly who we are and why we're following them."

Tim tried not to wince. His own recent experiences with torture were fresh in his mind. The last thing he wanted was to go through anything like that again. Carew's expression was almost understanding.

"And if that happens, it'll be age before beauty."

"What?"

"I'll make sure they take me before they take you...and I think I'll be pretty good at keeping their attention on me."

"But...wait... You can't..."

Carew cut him off and spoke in a low voice. "This isn't altruism, Tim. This is practicality. If they start beating us to get answers, you are much more likely to suffer debilitating injury than I am. You have too many possible weak points. I am much more likely to be able to tolerate it. If it comes down to running for our lives, I don't want to have to drag you along. It'll only make recapture more likely, and I can't leave you behind because you know too much."

"So..."

"So you keep quiet and I'll be my usual charming self to get them to take me."

"Don't you have more secrets to keep?" Tim asked, pointedly.

Carew smiled humorlessly. "Fewer than you might think. But once they find out who I am, my value is limited. According to most of the U.S. population, I'm not out here. I'm in a hospital at death's door. It will be easy to deny my usefulness. You are an unknown quantity, but they don't know just how much of an unknown you are."

"So...supposing we do get the chance to escape."

"I'd suggest you don't head to Zamakh," Carew said. "Probably not a good idea to go to Sana'a for the moment. Otherwise, I'll let you decide."

Tim laughed with as little humor as Carew had smiled.

"Thanks."

"My pleasure. Oh, here come our hosts."

Tim looked over and saw one of the men approaching them.

"We don't like being followed," he said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Carew said, his black eyes wide. "If I had only known how you felt. I probably wouldn't have taken another route."

Just for a moment, it looked like what he'd actually said went over the man's head. Then, his eyes narrowed and he punched Carew in the face, knocking him back.

"I don't like sarcasm, either."

"You don't have much of an accent," Carew said.

"Not everyone does."

"True enough."

"Why were you following us?"

"I don't suppose you have a woman with you?"

The man stared at him for a long moment.

"I thought not. My mistake. I guess you should just let us go and we'll make our merry way back to..."

The man hit him again. Again, Carew was knocked back, but he sat up again and kept his eyes on the man, blinking as little as possible. Tim could see that the man didn't like Carew's gaze. He'd never seen Carew use that so deliberately before.

"Why were you following us?"

"Why did you blow up my driver?" Carew asked in return.

"Your driver?"

"Yes. It's not a pleasant place to drive if you don't know the way. Why did you blow him up? He was good at his job."

"Not our fault. He shouldn't have walked over."

"Maybe you're right. Of course, it could also have something to do with you being a poor excuse for a human being, but I guess that goes without saying, doesn't it."

Again, the statement was spoken so matter-of-factly that the insult went over the man's head for a few seconds before he realized. His eyes narrowed and Carew gave a winning smile.

"You like talking so much, maybe we'll help you with that."

"I don't need your help to talk. I'm a lot smarter than you are."

Another punch to the face and the man walked away. Carew sat up, rubbing at a place on his face where the skin had split.

"You know, there's a difference between attracting attention and asking for a beating," Tim said.

"Yes, you're right," Carew said. "At this point, you may as well not exist."

"But I still don't have any idea of what to do about getting away."

"I'm sure the opportunity will arise. The less they notice you, the better."

"Yeah. Sure."

Tim looked around. There appeared to be only the one truck. In order to get that, they'd have to have the keys. How would they do that? What were the odds that they'd just leave the keys in the truck? What were the odds that he could get Carew and get to the truck without being killed first?

Little as he liked Carew, Tim knew that he would have to make sure Carew got away, too. That only made things more difficult. While their captors settled for the night, Tim knew that they were about to miss their first check-in.

...and he also knew that his team would never give up on him.

For once, he hoped that they would be able to figure things out and swoop in to save them.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Cynthia looked at Ziva and Tony with a worried expression. It was an hour beyond the usual check-in time. They had not heard anything.

"I'm going to try contacting them. Remember that I can only do this once," she said.

"We know," Ziva said.

They were both stressed by the silence, but they were trying to be patient.

Cynthia took a breath and entered Tim's code. It didn't ring like a regular phone. It was just silence and would stay that way unless Tim entered the acknowledgment code.

There was nothing.

Cynthia left the connection open for ten minutes.

Nothing.

With a sigh, she closed the connection.

"There's nothing we can do until tomorrow. If we keep trying to contact them, it could be a distraction. If they've been captured, we could compromise their position if their captors have the phones. We have to wait."

"And then, what?" Tony asked.

"I don't know," Cynthia said, honestly. "If this were an official operation, after a day, I'd be out of it. Communications would be shut down. If they were lucky, they'd have a team track them down. If not...they'd be left to fend for themselves."

"Do you have any idea of what we could do to keep that from being what it is?" Tony asked.

"Not right now. I'm hoping that this was just a fluke and they couldn't contact us while they're on the move."

"What are the odds of that?" Ziva asked.

"You probably know that as well as I do, Ziva," Cynthia said.

Ziva didn't respond to that, but it was true. She did. The odds were not good. There was _some_ chance that they just couldn't check in and would do so when the next time came, but it wasn't a _good_ chance.

"They won't call tonight," Cynthia said, after a pause. "You can come back tomorrow, but tonight..."

"There is no chance," Ziva finished.

"Exactly."

Tony and Ziva knew they had to give up for the night; so they left together.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Tony said. "They won't be calling tomorrow."

"Probably not," Ziva said.

"But we still don't know where they are."

"No."

"So...how are we going to figure that out so that we can go and get them?"

"I do not know, Tony. We are not working in a situation I can understand. We do not even know what it is that they are doing. And that matters."

Tony sighed.

"Yeah, I know. It's just that...this is the same thing that keeps happening, and I hate that we can't do anything."

Ziva shook her head.

"No, this is different. We _will_ be able to do something. I do not know what, but we will. We will not leave him."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

They took Carew away and left Tim alone. He had said almost nothing to this point, and they had basically ignored him. But Tim was trying to think of what he was going to do to get them free, especially since they were possibly in danger of interrogation. Tim _really_ didn't want to have to go through that again, and he wasn't too proud to admit it.

They'd already missed their first check in with Cynthia. Tim figured that nothing more would happen until they missed the second one. Then, he thought that his team would start trying to find out where he was.

After an hour or so, Carew was brought back. He seemed slightly twitchy which was _really_ strange. Carew never showed anything like that. He always seemed under complete control of himself.

He sat down and stared at the ground for a few moments without speaking.

"What happened, Levi?" Tim asked.

"I have to admit that I didn't anticipate this," Carew said. His voice sounded different. There was an edge to it Tim had never heard.

"Anticipate what?"

Carew looked him and took a deep breath.

"They gave me something. I don't know what it is, but I'm pretty sure that the full results of it won't be pretty."

"You mean like a...a truth drug or something?"

"Those don't really exist, you know," Carew said. "They can use drugs to make it more difficult to stop talking, but actual truth drugs? No. But I don't think that's what I was given, anyway. I think it's more like something that would make it hard for me to keep in touch with reality." He laughed a little. "And I'm not really in the mood to share my deep, dark secrets. I'd appreciate it if you didn't exploit my situation."

"I know a lot of deep, dark secrets already, you know," Tim said in a low voice.

Carew laughed at him. "Not that kind of secret. My job is just my job. What I know can be found out by people. The access I have is of limited use because, once we haven't checked in, my access will be removed. No, job secrets tend to have a short shelf life. I'm talking about life secrets. Those don't go away, and I have things I'd rather not be shared out to the world at large. When this drug starts affecting me, it will be hard for me know what is really happening and I'll be more likely to listen to questions and not question the people asking them. I don't think I want that to happen."

Tim raised an eyebrow. Carew's whole demeanor was different. He was gesturing wildly as he talked and was clearly starting to fall victim to whatever it was.

"I think you're already being affected by it."

"I'm sure you're right," Carew said. Another shaky laugh. "Right now, while I know, more or less, what's going on, I'm okay, but later on... I won't remember that I'm under the influence of drugs. That's why I'm asking you not to take advantage of it...and the good thing is that I'm pretty sure I can trust you not to."

"Why?"

"Because you are one of a rare breed, Tim," Carew said. "You don't decide what to do based on what the other person deserves. You know what is right and wrong and you have the strength of character to evaluate based on that. There are so few people like that. Woodrow is another, in spite of everything that happened to him. His moral center is strong enough that he doesn't worry about what I deserve."

Tim grimaced. Carew laughed again. When he spoke, it was a shaky, rapid-fire pace. Stopping him from talking would be harder than getting him to start.

"I told you that you're valuable. Most people think that's because of your skills, but really, those are only as important as others make them. Your real value is in who you are. That is something that can't be trained into someone...although it _can_ be trained out of them."

"Like you?"

"No. Not like me. I'm honest, but I don't have that level of integrity. Never did."

Carew shuddered and lay back on the ground to stare up at the sky.

"Even my vision is being affected by it. You may get the chance to see how you looked from the outside."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know that I should assume it's atropine they gave me, but it's certainly going to get worse. Probably, the dosage was close to overdose of whatever it is. My apologies in advance for anything embarrassing I might say or do."

Tim was suddenly struck by the idea that Carew was afraid of losing control of himself. He probably hadn't let his guard down once in years. Who knew how many? Now, it looked like he wasn't going to have a choice. What would Carew be like without that omnipresent control?

Tim knew that Tony would say Carew deserved it and that Tim should exploit the situation, but Tim also knew that Tony would be hesitant to do it himself. It felt wrong to take advantage of a situation like this. No matter how much Carew might deserve it, Tim couldn't be the one to do it.

Carew started shaking about an hour later. He closed his eyes tightly.

"It's getting worse. I'm starting to forget what's supposed to be going on. They'll probably come to get me soon. I don't think I like this."

His voice was so different from his usual sightly-derogatory tone that Tim was actually a little nervous. What if he _could_ get away and Carew was too far gone to listen to him?

"Levi."

Carew shuddered again and looked at him. His black eyes were wide, almost demented.

"Whatever else you forget during this...don't forget that you have to listen to me. If I can get us away, you have to listen to me."

"I... I will try to remember that..."

One of their captors came over to laugh at Carew. Tim sat where he was and said nothing. Carew lay there.

"Not so arrogant now, are you," the man said.

Carew looked at him without speaking for a long moment. The man was clearly discomfited by Carew's eyes.

"I... I don't have to be arrogant," he managed to say. "Your...idiocy makes it...unnecessary."

The man glared.

"You'll be begging for help soon enough."

"Never...from you."

The man kicked Carew once and then walked away.

For a long moment, there was nothing. Then, Carew swallowed audibly.

"I don't think that...I'll be able to do that next time."

"I don't think so, either," Tim said.

No matter what accusations he could lay at Carew's feet, Tim didn't like seeing him this way. He didn't enjoy it, and there was no satisfaction involved in knowing that a man he didn't like was suffering like this.

He started looking around the camp again. There were four people he could see. Only one of them had interacted with them. The truck was on the edge of the camp. They weren't on a road. It was hot, dusty, and rocky. Not as much sand as Tim would have expected. Not much cover as he would have hoped for, either.

_If we're getting out of here, we'll have to take the truck._

Cover of night would be best. They hadn't been tied up, but they were in full view of their captors at all times. Someone was always watching them.

"Levi..."

"Yes. That's my name. That's who I am. I am Levi."

Tim took a breath. This was really getting weird.

"How's your aim?"

"Aim? For what?"

"People."

"I always aim."

"Can you hit someone if you throw a rock at them?" Tim asked, trying to keep himself calm and his voice low.

"Sure. First try. Every time. I never miss."

"Would you do it if I told you to?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Carew closed his eyes again and clenched his hands into fists. He started mumbling incoherently.

"I don't want to be Levi!" he said. "I don't want to be...Levi."

Tim winced. Whatever they'd given Carew was definitely taking over now. Tim wasn't sure if he should try talking Carew down or if he should just sit there and let the drug take its course.

"I hate being Levi. I hate you for making me Levi."

At the same time, he couldn't help wondering if this was a delusion or if Carew was reliving something from his past.

After another two hours and Carew's increasing delusion, they came and dragged him away.

Tim hated that he had to stay quiet, but he did. While he sat there, he began digging into the ground, looking for rocks. That would be the only weapon they could plan on, but the rocks had to be big enough to cause real damage. He began to make a plan. It kept him from being afraid. He couldn't afford to lose his mind. Carew already had.

_This is going to be on me._

Tim sighed. He really wished that he wasn't alone in this.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Cynthia was sitting in her home, waiting. She knew that she'd have visitors tonight. She also knew that she would have to make a call that she didn't want to make. She had to report that there had been two missed calls.

The time hadn't passed yet, but she knew it would. In the past, this had meant the end of an operation, but it wouldn't this time. It meant that Tim could be dead, could be captured...but it wouldn't mean that she had to give up on him. However, she did have to make sure that it was known that Carew could be in a situation that required acknowledging his absence.

There was a knock on her door. She knew that it would be one or all of them...and she knew that Ziva would be one of them.

She walked over and opened the door.

Tony, Gibbs and Ziva were there.

"I hope you realize that the odds of him calling are not high right now."

"We know," Gibbs said.

"Okay."

They came in and sat down to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

They didn't speak. Cynthia didn't try to encourage conversation, either.

The scheduled time passed.

The phone didn't ring.

Cynthia felt her heart sink. This was why she hadn't been able to stay in covert ops. It was just too hard to deal with this kind of situation over and over again.

The hour passed.

"I'm going to call once. Then..."

"Then, it will be up to us to figure out how to find him," Ziva said.

Cynthia just nodded. She dialed to access code and waited.

Nothing.

Reluctantly, she disconnected.

"That's it. According to what we set up, that's the last time I can try. Any more will likely do more harm than good. I'll keep the base set so that, if a miracle happens, they can contact us, but we can't contact them."

There was a subtle release of tension. They'd been waiting and waiting and now... Now, they knew. But there was only silence. Finally, Cynthia let herself express her own worry.

"Agent Gibbs, what are you going to do? What I've been doing is what I know...but I was never given the option of hoping for something to improve. I had to cut off contact and know that they would likely die. What more can you do?"

Gibbs looked at her and then at Tony and Ziva.

"We're going to find out. Don't call the CIA yet."

"Gibbs..."

"They have to think about protecting themselves. I want you to have this equipment until we have the chance to figure something out. If this stuff disappears, we don't have a chance."

Cynthia nodded.

"It probably would disappear."

"That's why you can't report yet."

"Okay...but I can't put that off forever. I don't like their methods, but there is a reason for them."

"Give us a day or two."

"Okay."

Gibbs got up and left. Tony followed after him, but Ziva lingered for just a moment.

"What is it, Ziva?" Cynthia asked.

"Why do you care so much?" she asked.

"Partly...because I can't give up this time. I don't have to and I won't. But also...because I don't want to see Tim broken or lost when he has the chance to live a real life. I've seen him in some miserable situations. He's been so much better. I don't want to see that happen."

"I do not want that, either. He is in this situation because he sacrificed to save me. I would like to pay him back for that, even though he does not like me to mention it." Ziva looked at the equipment and then sighed. "I wonder what his life could have been like without all this. He would have been so normal. Perhaps, we would have had petty fights about nothing and we would have taken all that we had for granted, but I wish that we could."

Then, she left. Cynthia sat down and thought about that. Ever since Tim had first been appropriated by the CIA, so much of their lives had been focused on Tim and his problems. Would he have been so important without this? Would he have been relegated to the background?

Cynthia shook her head. It didn't matter. The life they had was reality. There was no going back. Better to focus on the situation they had right now.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim slept a little during the night, but not much. He couldn't help thinking about the fact that they'd missed another check-in with Cynthia. And there was a part of Tim that had only thought about the fact that he had missed talking to Ziva. He knew that she would have been there because she had promised to be there for every call. However, he also knew that the whole team was likely to be there for the second one. They would be too worried to stay away. Tim knew that they'd try to find him. He could only hope that they'd succeed.

They brought Carew back near dawn. He wasn't very talkative, but he wasn't really aware of anything, either. It was not what Tim had been hoping for. He hesitated about trying to talk to Carew, not knowing what that would cause him to say. ...but at the same time, he needed to know if he was going to be able to rely on Carew for anything.

After their guard walked further away, Tim scooted over by Carew.

"Levi, can you hear me?"

No response.

"Levi."

"I don't want my eyes."

"What?"

"I don't want my eyes!" Carew shouted.

The guard started toward them.

"Why not?" Tim asked.

"I don't like my eyes!"

The guard stopped and laughed when Tim looked his way.

"That'll be you when we're done with him," the man said.

Tim said nothing in reply and the man left them again.

"Levi, I need your help, but you have to be quiet."

It was like trying to talk to a child...or maybe just someone who was insane.

Carew looked at him.

"I don't want my eyes."

"Well...we can't do anything about that here," Tim said, finally. "We have to get away to fix that."

"When? When?"

"Tonight. When it's dark. Then, we'll get away, but you have to wait until then. Can you?"

"I'll wait."

Tim nodded and grimaced. It was going to be hard, but if Carew had remembered anything, he seemed to remember that Tim was someone he should trust.

It was a very hot day, and they only were given water once. Every so often, Carew would start talking about something Tim didn't understand. He would complain about his eyes and his name, but very intensely, not like a child would. It was like his eyes were the worst things in the world. If anything positive came out of Carew being in the state he was, it was that the guard got sloppy. There were so many outbursts, that he stopped paying attention to a man who was delusional.

Tim knew almost nothing about Carew's life. He knew about his education and his time in the CIA, but other than that...

"I don't want to be Levi."

"There's nothing wrong with that name," Tim said.

"Levi is a murderer!" Carew said. He suddenly sat up and grabbed Tim by the shoulders.

It was the first time that Tim had ever seen Carew's eyes as disturbing rather than just a little strange. Now, Carew was staring at him, shaking him.

"Levi killed them! He killed them all and I don't want to be Levi!"

"What are you talking about?" Tim asked.

"Levi and Simeon! They killed them! They killed them! He was cursed! I don't want to be Levi! Don't make me be Levi! Don't make me be him!"

Tim swallowed and kept himself from panicking. Carew certainly wasn't in a position to control himself. Tim had no idea what he was talking about, but clearly, it was distressing to Carew in his current state.

"Uh...it's all right," Tim said. "You don't have to be the same...no matter what your name is. You don't have to worry about that."

"I don't?"

"No. You don't. You can be whatever you want. A name is just a name."

Tim wasn't sure how much of this Carew was actually hearing, but if it calmed him down, Tim would say whatever it took. He had vague memories of Levi being a Bible name, but it had been so long since he'd cracked a Bible that he didn't know what event Carew was talking about...if that's what it was that had him so upset.

Carew let him go and lay down again. Tim sighed. How long would this delusion last? He had no idea. Probably, they'd dosed him again when they took him away. He couldn't see any other reason why the drug wouldn't have worn off by now, no matter _what_ it was.

He waited for night to come. They would have to take a shot at escaping. If they didn't, things would likely only get worse.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"_They talked about it in school today! Why am I named after someone like that?"_

"_The Levites are the tribe who watched over the tabernacle, Levi. Moses was a Levite!"_

"_Levi and Simeon killed all the men in Shechem!" Levi said, angrily. "They used religious rituals to commit murder! Levi was cursed by his own father! Why would you name me after a person like that?"_

"_I wasn't naming you after him. I was naming you after the tribe. Don't condemn all people because of one man."_

"_I hate my name! When I'm an adult, I'm going to change it! I hate it! And I hate you for naming me!" _

_He stormed off and slammed the door to his room._


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"Something's coming!" Carew said, sounding almost gleeful. "Something is coming. It's coming."

Tim had actually dozed off a little and he was startled.

"What's coming?" he asked, before remembering that Carew wasn't in his right mind.

"It's coming! Can't you see it?"

Tim opened his eyes and looked around. Everything looked the same.

"I don't see..."

Carew grabbed Tim's head and pointed it up.

"See?" he asked.

Tim kept himself from pulling away from Carew and looked up at the sky.

"Clouds."

"Yes! It's coming!"

Tim thought about that. Clouds. Could it really mean rain? Here? This was an arid desert. Tim didn't think that there was much in the way of rain falling in this area. Could Carew be right? Tim was skeptical.

"Are you sure, Levi? I don't think it rains much here."

"It's coming!"

Carew let Tim's head go and he pointed up to the sky again.

"It's a miracle! Forty days and nights of rain! Flooding out the entire earth! Killing all the wicked! Miracles! Vengeance from God!"

Tim laughed a little. He wondered why it was that Carew's delusion was leading him to the Bible. He would never have thought that Carew would be religious at all, let alone have that be what his mind dwelt on while on drugs.

The guard looked over at them, briefly. That was all. Tim grabbed for Carew's arm and pulled him back down.

"Remember, Levi, you need to be quiet."

"But it's coming! It's our..."

"Stop!" Tim said, quickly. The last thing they needed was for the already-iffy plan to be blurted out to the camp.

To his relief, Carew did, but he was getting fidgety again. Tim hoped that it _would_ rain. If the rain did fall, that might give them the distraction they needed to have a real chance of getting away. Besides, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep Carew from completely losing it...if he hadn't already.

He looked up at the clouds again. They seemed darker than they had been. The heat was still unbearable, but he would swear that it felt more humid than it had before.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Jenny was looking down at him. Gibbs knew it, but he wasn't looking back up at her. He knew she was wondering about what they knew, but they both knew that it was important that she be genuinely unaware of what was going on. So far, he didn't think that anyone was pressuring her. Whatever Tim and Carew had done last year seemed to have changed things, but even so, none of them wanted to risk it.

"Boss," Tony said in a low voice.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

Tony jerked his head toward the elevator and didn't say anything else.

Gibbs got up and walked over to it. He got on and went down to Abby's lab.

"Gibbs!"

Abby flew at him and hugged him tightly.

"What is it, Abbs?"

"Okay, so I know that I don't need to get into everything here, but I'm up to speed on it all and I'm ready to do what I can...and I think that maybe I _can_ do something, but I have to be on site. I can't do it here. I can't do it remotely, and I'm not sure if I can do it at all, but I can try. Right?"

Gibbs smiled.

"Right."

"Good. So...tonight. I'm going to see if there's something I can do, but I don't want to make things worse. Do you think I will?"

"Don't know. You'll have to ask Cynthia."

Abby nodded. "Okay." Then, she bit her lip. "What if..."

Gibbs put a finger to her lips.

"Don't go there, Abbs."

He kissed on the cheek and then, he went back up to the bullpen. Tony and Ziva were both there. Ziva raised her eyebrows in a silent question. Gibbs nodded.

That was all.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

It had seemed like the clouds took a long time to build up, but then, it was as if they were on fast forward and, in seconds, it was raining.

In fact, there was so much rain falling that Tim was genuinely worried. The ground was hard and dry, and they weren't on high ground. That was a sure-fire way of getting stuck in a flash flood.

"It's raining! It's pouring!" Carew shouted into the torrents. "The old man is snoring!"

Tim grabbed Carew.

"Are you ready to hit someone with a rock?" he asked.

"Yes!"

Carew spun around and flung one of the rocks Tim had dug up at the guard who was heading over to them. To Tim's surprise, it hit him right in the center of the forehead and the man went down.

Tim didn't waste any time. He grabbed Carew and started pulling him toward the truck. The rain was still falling and now he was starting to see ponding. He didn't want to be stuck here whether they got the truck or not. They just needed to get away.

He saw the other men running around, gathering their things. They hadn't yet noticed that the guard was down.

Good.

Tim ran to the truck and shoved Carew into it.

There were no keys.

Tim swore loudly...and then was shocked when Carew slapped him across the face.

"Never take the name of the Lord in vain," Carew said, sounding angry.

"We don't have the keys, Levi. We can't drive the truck."

"Keys, keys, keys, keys," Carew repeated.

"Shut up!" Tim shouted at him. "You're not helping! We need to get out of here. They'll kill us if we don't get away!"

He momentarily lost control and grabbed Carew and shook him. Carew looked at him for a long moment, and for a few seconds almost looked normal.

"I can...start the truck," he said.

"Then, do it," Tim said.

Carew leaned over and fiddled under the steering wheel. He pulled out some wires and in seconds, the truck roared to life.

Tim heard shouting from outside.

They had noticed.

He put the truck in gear and pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. There were gunshots behind them. Tim ducked and Carew started shouting incoherently out the window at them.

"You're the wicked! God is leaving you to drown! Die, evil men, die! We're on the ark!"

Tim didn't bother to comment. He just kept pushing the gas pedal in the hopes of getting far away from the shots.

And all the while the rain poured down over them. The truck wasn't waterproof and water was soaking them from above and from the sides and from the front. Tim kept going.

His heart was in his throat as he tried to get the truck away from their captors. They hydroplaned a few times as they plowed through the water. It was like driving through a shallow stream. Tim wasn't a confident enough driver to think that he would be able to control the truck if it was really out of control. Luckily, they hadn't yet got to a road and so skidding one way or the other didn't take them to anything worse than they were in.

He kept plowing forward as fast as possible when he suddenly pulled out onto a road. He was so surprised that he nearly lost control of the truck. It weaved back and forth for a few seconds until Tim was able to start it going in a northerly direction.

"We made it!" he said, breathing heavily.

Carew said nothing in reply. In fact, he'd gone remarkably silent. Tim looked over. He was staring vacantly forward, his mouth moving silently.

There were no more gunshots behind that Tim could hear. They had got away. It was a relief, even if it didn't mean they were safe yet. Carew had said that they shouldn't be going back to Sana'a, and it didn't make sense to go to Zamakh with Carew currently delusional. So Tim just kept heading north. Hopefully, whatever they'd given to Carew would get out of his system quickly and they could make new plans.

Suddenly, Carew reminded him that he was still out of his mind. He began clawing at his face.

"I don't want my eyes!"

Tim swerved as he reached out to stop Carew from gouging out his own eyes.

"Stop it, Levi!" he said. "Just stop!"

"I don't want my eyes! I want different eyes! I don't want to have these eyes!"

Carew seemed extremely distressed, as he had the last time.

"Stop! Levi, you have to stop this."

"But I don't want my eyes!"

"I understand that," Tim said, not understanding in the least, "but you have to wait until later to do anything about that. This is not the time. Please."

Carew was almost hyperventilating, but he clenched his fists and closed his eyes.

Tim sighed and refocused on the road. The rain was stopping. It was getting close to sunset. They'd have a chance to keep going through the night.

The engine sputtered.

"No. No!" Tim said, loudly.

He kept urging the truck forward, and it did for another ten minutes, but then, it began sputtering again. Tim tapped on the display and the fuel gauge dropped to E.

He almost swore again, but he wasn't sure if Carew would hit him again for that and he wanted to avoid a repeat. Carew had hit him pretty hard.

Then, the engine cut out.

They dragged to a stop. Tim was tempted to stay with the truck and try to figure something out, but he didn't want to risk being found by their captors. Too risky. Better to abandon the nonfunctional truck and make _some_ progress, even if he had no idea where that progress would lead.

"Okay. Looks like we have to walk now."

Carew didn't move. He had gone back to staring vacantly ahead of them.

"Levi!"

Tim shook him.

"Levi!"

He turned his head toward Tim.

"I...don't want... I don't like that..."

"What?"

"Don't tell me. I don't want to hear it again. No more!" He bent over and covered his ears.

Tim kept himself from asking more questions, although he couldn't help but be curious. Instead, he got out of the truck, hurried around to the passenger side and opened the door.

"Come on, Levi. Time to go!"

"I don't want to see the pictures! I don't want to see that death!"

"You don't have to, but we have to leave."

Tim grabbed Carew's arm and pulled him out of the truck. For a moment, Carew resisted, but then, there was that flash of almost coherence and he nodded. Maybe he'd come out of this soon.

Tim tried to orient himself, but he only knew that they had been going basically north on the road. It was wet. For the moment, there were even rivers, although Tim wasn't kidding himself that they'd last very long at all. He looked around and picked out a path that would take them through one of the temporary rivers. It would be dangerous, but it would also disguise their route. Still, he wasn't sure about doing this because Levi was looking more and more out of it.

Suddenly, Tim realized that this was the first time in years that he was able to make logical decisions in the midst of chaos. He had so often been unable to think clearly when the chips were down. Others had to make decisions for him or else he had to throw himself into a decision without being able to analyze anything.

"I don't know if this is a good thing," he said aloud.

But he decided. He grabbed Carew by the arm, wishing both that Carew was back to normal and that he could just leave him behind, and headed for the river.

He knew that it wasn't safe to cross a river when one didn't know what it was like. Still, Tim made the decision to risk it. It looked like it was slowing down a little bit, and it didn't look very deep. He kept a tight hold on Carew's arm and he started into the water. One step at a time. Carew stumbled and nearly took them both down. Tim only barely managed to keep on his feet.

They made it halfway across the river before disaster struck.

Carew collapsed. Tim had no idea why, but he wouldn't let go of Carew's arm and so he went down, too. Both of them went under the water and started slipping downstream.

It wasn't deep, but it was moving fast, and Tim felt the water pulling Carew away from him. He redoubled his grip and struggled to get them both up.

They tumbled downstream further as Tim struggled to angle their progress toward the side.

It seemed like it took forever, but finally, he managed to drag them both out of the water. He coughed and gasped and then collapsed on the wet, hard sand.

After a few seconds, he remembered Carew. He sat up, breathing heavily, and looked at his unwanted companion.

He was lying there, eyes closed, but he was breathing.

Tim ran his hands over his wet hair and let out a loud exhalation. He ached and was sure that he was very bruised, but at least, he was alive and kicking. And if Carew wasn't kicking, he was alive, too. He fell back to the sand and focused on getting his breath back. For a few minutes, it was blissfully silent...except for the water rushing by.

...but even that was changing. The water continued to slow down and decrease in its flow.

"The first time I was here, there was a huge sandstorm. The second time, a flood. This place _hates _me," Tim said, staring up at the sky.

And he suddenly realized that it was also getting dark.

Sunset, and if the clouds went away, it would also get cold. Best to get moving again.

He pulled himself up again and noticed that his feet were starting to ache. Well, nothing to do about that.

"Levi. Come on. We've got to get moving."

No response.

Tim sighed and knelt down.

"Levi."

"Tired."

"I'm sure. So am I, but we can't stay here."

"Tired."

Tim shook him.

"Levi! Get up!"

Finally, Carew opened his eyes and nodded. He sat up, but he was still breathing irregularly, and Tim didn't like that. He didn't know if it was a feature of the drug Carew had been given or if Carew simply wasn't as ready for this kind of mission as he'd indicated he was. Tim didn't know how old Carew was, but he certainly wasn't a young guy. Still, it wasn't like they could just sit around. Not safely.

Tim pulled Carew to his feet. He staggered and started to fall again. Tim quickly grabbed him and got Carew to lean on him.

"Okay. Let's go."

He was already feeling it in his feet, and he couldn't imagine that it would get any better with Carew's weight on his shoulders.

"I don't want to...hear it," Carew gasped out.

"Fine. I won't say it," Tim said in reply.

"They're dead. I know it. I don't need to see them...not like that."

"I'm sorry."

It got darker, and the clouds did dissipate, meaning the temperature would go down.

Tim walked. Carew slumped against him, every so often mumbling about something. Tim ignored him. As long as they were moving forward, it didn't matter what Carew was talking about. He _really_ hoped that whatever was wrong would fix itself. Sooner rather than later.

After an hour or so, Tim started limping. He was tired, hurting, and Carew was helping him less and less.

Then, he started speaking in another language. Tim couldn't understand it, but it sounded a lot like when Ziva started speaking Hebrew.

Tim kept them moving.

...until someone stepped into view, gun in hand, pointing it at them. He spoke to them. It sounded like Arabic, but Tim didn't know what he'd said.

Tim stopped and Carew slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground. He didn't respond.

"What are you doing here?"

It was a young voice, heavily-accented, but understandable, thankfully.

"Trying to find our way to somewhere safe...until my...friend...can recover."

"What is wrong with him?"

"He's been drugged."

"Why?"

"It's a long story. Could you tell me where we could go? Or...help us get there?"

The man didn't lower his gun for a moment. Tim could see that he was evaluating.

"We're not armed," he said. "Can I check my friend, please?"

The man gestured, and Tim knelt down.

"Levi...come on."

There was a whimper which told him that Carew was still alive. Then, Tim got to his feet and winced as his feet protested.

"What is wrong with you?"

"I hurt my feet last year," Tim said. There was no way he had the time to explain all the details.

There was a long pause.

"You both...come with me."

"Can you help?"

Finally, the gun lowered and the man came over. He lifted Carew up, and Tim helped him walk. The man led them toward some dunes. Tim's feet were aching, but he didn't complain, not while he was unsure of the man's intentions. He didn't seem threatening, but he was armed and Tim wasn't...and Carew was no help.

They crossed two dunes and then...he was in a camp.

A bedouin camp.

Tim knew that he hadn't been really thinking clearly (or seeing clearly) when he had been in Saudi Arabia last year, but how many bedouins were still pursuing the nomadic lifestyle?

The man called out in Arabic and a number of people came out of tents.

There were a lot of eyes on him as the man started speaking in Arabic. He lowered Carew back to the ground, and Tim was relieved that he didn't have the weight on his feet, but he wished he dared sit down, too.

Then, there was a voice that he would recognize anywhere.

"Tim!"

He craned his neck and saw a little girl pushing forward, escaping the grip of a woman.

"Samia?" he asked in surprise.

She giggled and said something that he didn't understand.

"Tim McGee. What are you doing here?"

Tim turned once more.

"Imād."

It was hard to say who was more surprised.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Tim, I had not ever thought to see you again."

Tim smiled ruefully. "I thought the same thing. It's...not exactly my decision to be here, but it's nothing like last time."

"What has happened?"

Tim knelt down by Carew.

"He's been drugged. Is there anything you can do for him?"

Imād walked over and knelt beside Carew. He lifted Carew's eyelids and actually started a bit. Tim figured it must be the color. He certainly wouldn't be the first to be bothered by them, including Carew himself, it seemed. Then, Imād checked his pulse and respiration.

"Do you know what he was given?"

"No. I'm sorry. I don't. He's been delusional."

Imād nodded.

"I am not certain I can do anything for him but give him time. Who did it?"

"We were on our way out of Sana'a and we got waylaid before we could reach our original rendezvous. The men who captured us wanted to know who we were and what we were doing. They drugged Levi to get answers from him. I don't know if he told them what they wanted, but when the rain hit, we got away in a stolen truck. The truck broke down and we've been walking ever since."

"Walking? Your feet?"

"Aching like no tomorrow," Tim said, "but I'm walking."

"Al-hamdu lillah," Imād said. "I was not sure that you would be able to recover."

"I wasn't, either, and it's been a long time coming, but I'm getting better."

"You clearly have a long story to tell, but for now, I think that we should get your friend to a tent."

Imād spoke quickly in Arabic to a couple of the men standing near.

"I hope I'm not imposing. I don't think it will be the same situation as before."

"You are not. Come with us."

Tim nodded and started to stand, but Imād helped him up and then let Tim lean on him. It was relief to be supported by someone rather than _being_ the support for someone else. They went to a tent and Carew was placed on a cot.

"Sit and relax while I look at him. His name?"

"Levi."

Imād raised an eyebrow.

"Israeli?"

"No. He's an American."

Imād looked a little skeptical, but he nodded.

"I wish that Suhayl was here to see you, but he is not here."

"Where is he?" Tim asked, in surprise.

"Where he must be. We are hoping he will be back soon."

That seemed like a strange answer to Tim, but he accepted it and waited while Imād examined Carew. While he was checking, Carew suddenly made one of his strange statements, although it sounded more weary than manic this time.

"I don't...want to...hear it again."

To Imād's credit, he didn't react to that at all. He put a hand over Carew's eyes.

"You do not have to. Sleep and wait until you are able to think again. Sleep and know that you are safe."

At first, it seemed like Carew would start panicking again. He grabbed hold of Imād's hand and tried to pull it away, but Imād was as firm as he was caring. He kept speaking gently to Carew, as he would to a child, until finally, Carew's body relaxed and he slept. Imād waited for a few minutes in silence and then he turned to Tim.

"You have been hurt?"

Tim touched his cheek.

"Not badly. Thankfully, it was the other side. I still have a metal plate in my face from the last time."

Imād walked over and sat in front of Tim. He reached out and gently probed Tim's face. Tim winced a little, but that was all. Imād sat back and nodded in approval.

"Bruised but not broken. As are you," he said. "You are not only much more...whole than I would guess you could be, but you are...healed...inside."

"Better than I was. I still have my bad days," Tim said, honestly, "but I'm much better."

"What healed you?"

"Time. Someone who was able to get me to talk about what I had hidden and lead me out of the darkness." It was a melodramatic way of putting it, Tim knew, but it seemed liked the only way of describing it. Then, honesty forced him to add more. "Levi is one who forced me to get the help I needed."

"And yet...I do not...think you like him, even though you called him a friend."

Tim laughed a little. "No, I don't."

"Who is he to you, then?"

Tim hesitated. He wasn't sure Carew would approve of this, but he trusted Imād as he hadn't allowed himself to trust many.

"He's the head of the CIA."

Imād's eyes grew wide.

"That is...not the answer I thought to hear."

"I know."

"Why is he here?"

"Fixing a mistake he made, and he's got my help to do it."

"Willingly?"

"Not exactly, but I'm not here under duress."

Imād's expression was a little confused.

"Uh... He didn't force me."

"Oh."

"Who's in charge when Suhayl isn't here?"

"There is the diwān. They discuss and can lead if need be, but they will wait for Suhayl unless they must go."

"Should I speak to them about our staying?"

Imād shook his head and smiled a little mischievously.

"They will already know. Fahd, the one who brought you here, will have told them already. He recognized your voice, but not your face."

"I'm not surprised. I was pretty mangled last year."

"I can see the scars, the remains of your injuries."

"Yeah, but except for my feet, I don't have any problems."

"That is very good to hear."

"What about Levi?" Tim asked.

Imād looked over his shoulder at Carew, lying quietly on the cot.

"In sha'Allah, he will recover. He did not need to be running. I do not think it was good for his breathing and his heart."

"No, I was pretty sure he shouldn't have been running."

"But I see that it was needed."

"I think it was. I hope it was. Otherwise, I hurt my feet for no reason."

"Let me see your feet."

"I don't think anything will show."

"Let me see."

Tim nodded and lifted his feet. Imād carefully removed Tim's shoes and socks and then felt his feet, and there was an ache but no more than that.

"Yes, it is not bad, but I think you should rest them."

"I'm okay with that."

Imād smiled.

"You could have a visitor while you are here."

"Who?" Tim asked, his brow furrowing.

"Samia. She talked about you for a long time after you left."

"Really? But we couldn't even talk to each other."

"You saved her life. This is what she remembers. You protected her."

"I tried."

"You did. She does not know English yet, but she has...started to learn it."

Tim smiled. "I recognized her when we got here. She still looks mostly the same."

"Yes. She has the look of her mother, but Suhayl is very...much inside her."

Tim nodded in agreement. "I still remember that I could see that in her eyes. I wasn't surprised to find out that Suhayl was her father, really. They have the same look."

"She will be one to watch for when she is older."

"I believe that."

Imād got to his feet and walked to one corner of the tent. Tim started to stand as well, but Imād gestured for him to stay down.

"I think you will want to sleep here?"

"Yes. I should probably stay with Levi."

"Good. You may sleep on this."

He handed Tim a mass of blankets.

"Some will make a soft layer to sleep on and you may wish to have one or two on top. Now that the clouds have gone, it will get cold in the night."

"You got the rain, too?"

"Only the edge. We watched it move across the desert. It is the first time in many years that it has rained here."

Tim smiled ruefully. "I think this place must hate me, then."

"Why do you think so?"

"There was that huge sandstorm the first time. This time, a flood."

Imād shook his head and looked more serious than Tim expected.

"No, Tim. I see it not that way."

"How do you see it, then?"

"You have been given a gift that the desert does not often give to strangers. The shamal gave Suhayl the cover needed to free you the first time. The flood gave you the way to escape this time. You are especially favored. Allahu a'lam."

Tim hadn't looked at it that way, but the timing _had_ been amazingly appropriate. Before he could think of a reply, though, there was a sound from behind them. The tent flap rustled.

Imād looked over Tim's shoulder and smiled.

"Samia, tasmah lik bi-dukūl."

Tim furrowed his brow and looked back. The tent flap lifted and Samia came inside, looking defiant.

"Mama samahat lī bi-l-ziyara."

Imād just chuckled and gestured. Samia came in, hesitantly.

"Hel-lo, Tim," she said, haltingly.

"Hello, Samia," Tim said, with a smile.

She stood for a moment and then walked over to Imād and whispered in his ear. He whispered back. She thought about it and then whispered to him.

"What's going on?" Tim asked.

"She wants to speak to you in English, but she does not know the words. She asks me what to say," Imād said. "It is... It is better if her father can help her. He speaks English better."

"I can understand you very well," Tim said.

Imād nodded and whispered to Samia again. She turned to Tim.

"You are...happy?" she asked.

"Yes, very happy. Na'am."

She grinned and then whispered to Imād again. He whispered back and then pointed to the corner of the tent.

"You are..." She looked at Imād with an uncertain expression. He nodded. "You are thirsty?"

Tim nodded, remembering how she had helped him before. "Na'am."

"I get it to you."

She hurried over. She wasn't a whole lot bigger than she had been the year before. Tim wanted to help, but he could see that she wanted to do it herself. She paused at Imād and whispered to him again. He answered.

"You drink water."

"I will. Thank you."

Imād translated for her.

"The word for thanks is shokran," Imād said.

"Oh, yeah. I remember now. Shokran, Samia."

"'Afwan," she said.

Tim was able to lift the water skin this time and drink for himself. Samia watched him avidly. Tim suddenly realized that he was not only thirsty. He was also hungry, and his stomach was on the verge of growling.

He put the lid back on the skin and gave it to Samia. She dragged it back to the corner. Imād beckoned her over and then whispered to her once more.

"Good-bye, Tim," she said.

"Bye, Samia."

She smiled and then ran out of the tent.

"Some things... It doesn't matter where you are. People are the same," Tim said, looking after her. "She could be a little girl anywhere."

"Yes. It is easier to see the same things in children. Adults are much harder."

Tim smiled. "Only sometimes. With everything that's happened to me in the last few years, I've found people who were willing to help me without any return from me. I even tried a couple of times. I never could."

"I am glad to hear this from you, Tim. You are seeing as you should. It is not only your eyes that are seeing right."

Tim shrugged, self-consciously. He wasn't used to that kind of observation. It was one thing when Carew said it while in the grips of some drug. Imād was fully in his right mind and saying the same kinds of things.

"Never again. I promise..."

Speaking of Carew...

Tim turned back to the cot. Imād did the same and walked over to where Carew was starting to move around again.

"I won't!"

Carew suddenly moved into manic mode and tried to get up. Tim hurried over to help hold him down.

"Levi, you need to stay down. Just relax."

Carew looked at Tim with his crazed, black eyes.

"I won't ever. Never again. I promise. Never again," he said.

"That's fine," Tim said. "You just need to calm down. It's okay."

Carew was actually shaking, but he stopped fighting to get off the cot. Imād eased him down again, but Carew didn't notice him. He was only looking at Tim, who felt rather uncomfortable under the weight of his gaze.

"You're safe here, Levi. It's fine. You don't have to worry."

"That's...what they said before..."

"No, it's true." Tim hesitated and looked at Imād for a moment. Then, he looked back at Carew. "Remember how I told you that you needed to listen to me? Remember that you said you would? Listen to me, now. You're safe. You just need to sleep."

"How?"

Tim laughed a little. "Close your eyes."

"I don't like them."

"I know. Just close them."

"You don't like them, either. No one does."

"Close your eyes. Breathe slowly. Calm down."

To his surprise, Carew actually listened to him.

"You're not afraid?" Carew mumbled as he began to sink back toward sleep.

"No. I'm not."

And Tim was surprised to realize that he was being completely honest. He was worried, anxious about getting back on track. He was worried about how successful they'd be at Zamakh, where they'd go next if they couldn't find anything there, whether or not Ray had survived. ...but he wasn't afraid. After spending so much time afraid of _something_, it was almost a shock that he wasn't now.

Imād sat in silence while Tim helped Carew calm down. After twenty minutes or so, Tim thought that Carew was asleep again. He looked at Imād, silently questioning. Imād nodded.

"I thought he'd just stay asleep," Tim said.

"As I did, but I do not know what he has inside and...that makes it hard to say."

"Yeah. How long do you think this will last?"

"He is...tired, now. He does not sleep out of fear...from this drug. He sleeps and wakes. I think tomorrow he will be better."

"Good. I have to admit that it's _really_ weird seeing him like this."

"Even though you do not like him?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't wish this kind of thing on anyone. I think he was afraid of what the drug would make him do. I could use it, but I can't. It would be wrong."

"Yes. It is wrong to use this. It would be... I am not sure of the word."

"Taking advantage."

"Yes. Now, you are hungry?"

"I could try and say no, but I think my stomach is going to start growling any second."

Imād grinned.

"I will get you food and bring it in here. I think it is better for Levi if you are here. If he wakes again."

Tim suppressed a grimace, knowing that Imād was probably right.

"I'll stay. Thank you, Imād. I wish there was some way to repay all that you've done for me."

"To take pay for a gift is wrong. I could not. I will take your thanks, but that is all."

Imād got to his feet and left the tent. Tim looked after him and then looked back at Carew.

"I hope you come out of this soon, Levi. I really hate being your link to reality."

Carew didn't respond. Thank goodness.

Imād returned with food and let Tim eat in peace. He also brought extra for Carew should he awaken. After he ate, Tim felt the tiredness that should have been prominent before hit him hard. So he took the blankets Imād had given him and dragged them over by Carew's cot. He lay down beside Carew, hoping for hours of uninterrupted sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Abby knocked on Cynthia's door. They hadn't had a chance to catch Cynthia at work...and it was probably risky to talk about it there, anyway. She was more than a little nervous about this because she knew that it was not supposed to be possible. She knew that Cynthia had said it could be dangerous for them. She also knew that if they did nothing and Tim died, she'd never forgive herself.

"Abby, you are going to try it?"

Abby turned around and saw Ziva coming up behind her.

"Ziva! I didn't think you were going to be here. I mean...we're not going to be getting in contact with Tim no matter what. This is just supposed to be...finding him, maybe."

"I told him I would be here every night. That will not change, even if he is not there to see."

"Um...okay."

Ziva smiled.

"We are not dating, Abby."

"I wasn't...saying..."

"I am doing what I can. What I can do is be here. Nothing else. So I am doing what I can do."

The door opened.

"Abby... Ziva," Cynthia said in surprise. "I wasn't expecting anyone here tonight. I can't try again."

"That's not why we're here," Abby said.

Cynthia looked at them both and then stood aside to let them in. She only spoke again after she had the door closed and locked.

"What is it?"

Abby took a deep breath and plunged into it.

"I think I might have figured out a way to follow the link here to where it is...or was."

Cynthia's eyes widened.

"I...shouldn't let you even try. I shouldn't even be entertaining the possibility. Do you know how wrong this could go?"

"Yes," Abby said. "I know, but I think I've found a way around it. I think I can set up a... I'll call it a rolling block that will keep anyone who might be waiting for something like this from following us back to where we are, but as long as the phones are still...existing, I think I can do it."

"Since they haven't been checking in, they probably don't have the phones," Cynthia said.

"Yeah, I've thought of that, but really, we'll probably be in the right part of the world, still. If someone...stopped them, then, they'll probably keep them where they were, at least, nearby."

Abby could see something unfamiliar in Cynthia's eyes. Cynthia was always in control, always perfectly composed, but she wasn't right now, and Abby didn't know why.

"I'll be honest. I don't know how much longer I can put off keeping this equipment from being dismantled. I'm sure that I'll come home from work one day and it'll have vanished. I _have_ to report the lack of contact to the CIA." She looked back at the base she had set up. Then, she looked back. "I've had too many times when I've had to stand back and let people die. Try it, Abby. I'll just have to trust that you know what you're doing."

"I don't know if I do...completely, but I know mostly what I'm doing."

Cynthia smiled. "How long do you think this will take?"

"That's something I really don't know. Probably all night."

"I know you're not a coffee person, but I don't make a habit of stocking energy drinks here. So I'll get some coffee going."

"Oh, you don't have to stay up," Abby said, quickly. "I can work by myself."

"I'm aware of that, Abby, but I hope you don't take this in the wrong way, but there's no way I'm going to bed while I have people in my home."

Abby grinned and sat down at the computer. She pulled out her laptop, her notes, and Bert. She set the hippo up on the table.

"Is that necessary, Abby?" Ziva asked.

"Yes. When things don't go exactly right when I want them, too, Bert will make me feel better," Abby said, firmly. Then, she looked at Ziva. "But you can hug him if you ever want to, too."

"I do not need to hug a stuffed hippo," Ziva said and sat down on a chair.

She started rubbing at the scars on her wrists. Abby reached out and touched her hand. Ziva looked down and took a quick breath.

"I'm going to find them," Abby said. "I know it."

She handed Bert to Ziva and then started to work.

She managed not to laugh when Bert made his usual noise.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I'm assuming that we're no longer captives, given that you're sleeping so soundly."

Tim heard the voice and struggled to wake up. He'd been sleeping _very _soundly, secure in his safety with the bedouins. The first real sleep he'd gotten since this had started.

He felt movement nearby and managed to get his eyes open. He couldn't suppress a yawn when he sat up.

"Is it...daylight?" Tim mumbled.

"I believe so, although I haven't tried leaving the tent to see. I'm not sure how stable I'll be, to be honest."

That finally got him conscious enough to know who he was talking to. He looked around and there was Carew, sitting on the cot, looking, thankfully, mostly back to normal. He did seem a bit loopy, still.

"How are you feeling?" Tim asked.

"Better than I'm sure I was, but still not entirely connected. There are some lingering side effects. Where are we?"

Tim almost grimaced at the falsely-calm tone Carew was using. While it wasn't particularly fair to judge when he was lost in delusions, it was clear that Carew affected a certain voice even in his normal, everyday interactions.

"I can't give you an exact location, but we're with the bedouins who helped me last year."

"That's quite a coincidence."

"Yeah. I was surprised to see them. I'm not sure why they're this far south. I'm pretty sure I didn't get as far north as I was."

"I doubt it, although my memory isn't good enough to say for certain. I don't remember much of anything after they took me away the first time."

"I have to admit that you have really good aim," Tim said with a bit of a smile.

"Aim for what?"

"Our guard. You were acting so crazy that he stopped really paying attention to us. Then, when it started raining..."

Carew's eyebrow lifted. He was clearly skeptical.

"Yes. It rained. A lot. You started talking about Noah."

"Did we have a flood, then?" Carew asked.

"Not a cataclysmic flood, but a minor one, yes. The rain was coming down so hard and fast that they were starting to get ready to move the camp, I think. I asked you to throw the rock at him. You did...and you hit him on the first try. I was impressed."

"Insanity doesn't remove physical ability," Carew said, although he actually seemed a little uncomfortable.

Tim was surprised at seeing it. Carew's voice was almost back to its former tone, but he hadn't yet got full control of his body language. Remaining vestiges of whatever the drug had been? Or a momentary weakness? Tim wasn't about to ask and make him conscious of it.

"I guess not, but I was surprised by it."

"I'm glad I could be of use."

"You were. You also hotwired the truck."

"Really."

"Yeah."

Carew nodded.

"So...once Imād checks you out, we can start figuring out what to do next."

"A friend of yours?"

"Yes. He's a doctor, although he says that he doesn't have any formal education. He helped last night."

Carew seemed uncertain, still. For a few seconds, there was only silence. Then, he seemed to come to a decision.

"You may as well ask me, Tim," he said.

"Ask you what?"

"About whatever it is I said during my delusions. I have some vague impressions of being afraid of things, but I don't know how much of it I expressed and to whom."

"You seemed very upset about your eyes. I had to stop you from scratching them out at least once."

Carew gave a closed-off smile.

"Yes. That doesn't surprise me."

"Did you really hate them?"

"When I was young, absolutely. People told me they were evil. I had an old woman tell me I must be possessed by the devil and that God had clearly rejected me."

"That's terrible."

Carew shrugged. "I got over it. I find them quite useful, now."

Tim could see the inevitable withdrawal as Carew recovered fully. He wasn't going to reveal weakness, even as he acknowledged its existence. He could be talking about a complete stranger instead of himself.

"How long did it take you to get over it?"

"Once I became a stereotypical angry teenager, I stopped caring about them."

"What about your name? Are you Jewish? Imād seemed to think you were."

"Ethnically. I haven't been to a synagogue in years. My mother was very devout."

"Your father?"

"Very dead."

"Oh."

"And yes, I hated my name. I accused my mother of naming me after a villain, swore that I would change my name as soon as I was an adult. Clearly, I changed my mind instead of my name."

"Is Levi a bad person? I don't remember. It's been a long time since I read anything in the Bible. You said he killed people?"

Again, Carew sounded dispassionate as he explained something that apparently had troubled him greatly as a child.

"He was one of the twelve sons of Jacob. Levi and his brother Simeon took revenge for the rape of Dinah, their sister, by killing all the men of the city of Shechem. They tricked them into being circumcised so that they couldn't fight back. It was an unjust slaughter."

"Oh...and you were named after _him_?"

Carew laughed. "Exactly. That was my feeling, too, when I learned about it. My mother said she had named me after the priestly _tribe_ of Levi, not Levi himself."

"Was it true?"

"Very likely. I can't imagine that my mother would have, intentionally, named me after someone who was a murderer. She would never have gone that route."

"Is she still alive?"

"No. Any other questions?"

Tim thought about the last things that Carew had said, about not doing something ever again. He considered asking what that had meant, but then, he thought that Carew was probably extremely embarrassed by all this, even if he wasn't admitting to it. And what got to Tim was realizing that, although they had likely been amplified and somewhat distorted by the drug he'd been given, what Tim had seen was truth, not just a delusion. He had seen some of who Carew had been, and it was a different person than Tim would ever have guessed.

"Those were what you seemed most focused on."

"I don't know if I told them anything of value. I think I resisted fairly well. I can't remember, but we should work under the assumption that I may have said _something_."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that, as soon as I'm back to normal, we should plan on getting on with things."

"Can we? We lost all our equipment, the phones, the guns, and would your contact still be at Zamakh?"

"All we can do is look."

"How will we get there? The truck quit on me and I had to walk."

"We'll figure it out. For now, if it's possible, I'd like to eat something."

"Oh, sure." Tim crawled over to the sealed container Imād had left him. Then, he crawled back, determined to give his feet as much rest as possible.

"How did your feet do?" Carew asked.

"Okay. Not great. I'm staying off them for a while."

Carew took the container and opened it. He examined the contents and then, he began to eat, slowly.

"There's water, if you need it, too."

"Yes, please. Not much, though. I don't want to diminish their stores."

Tim thought it was strange how almost _docile_ Carew was acting. It was extremely disconcerting and he almost wished that Carew would act more like himself...or at least match his actions to his tone. He crawled over to the water and dragged it over to Carew.

"Thank you."

Tim nodded. They sat in awkward silence. Carew ate and didn't seem inclined to make any moves or conversation, and Tim didn't know what to do at this point. Carew really hadn't taken control as Tim had thought he would.

Then, they heard a sound from outside and the tent flap lifted, admitting Imād.

"Salaam 'alaikum," he said. "I am glad to see you awake, Levi."

"Shokran," Levi said. "Whatever you did for me, I appreciate it."

"I did very little," Imād said. "We gave you a place to rest, and time is what you needed, I think. Do you know what they gave you?"

"No. I don't. Nothing like I'd ever experienced before."

"If you are willing, I will see how you are now."

Carew nodded. Imād checked him out and then sat back and nodded with approval.

"Your breathing sounds much better, and your heart beats right, now. If you are not needing to leave, it would be good for you to stay and rest one more day." He looked at Tim and then at Carew. "Is this possible?"

Tim deferred to Carew who raised an eyebrow, almost like his usual self.

"Yes. I think it is. At this point, I haven't tried to stand, and I'm not sure I'd make it. So, if it's not inconvenient, we can stay."

"The diwān does not mind," Imād said. "The rain gave us more water, al-hamdu lillah. You may stay in this tent or you may move about if you wish. We have been camped here for some time and will stay for another day or two."

"Why?" Tim asked. "This is still Yemen. Isn't it?"

Imād smiled. "By the lines drawn by governments, this is Yemen. To us, it is the desert. It is not used by Yemen. It is not used by Saudi Arabia. They used to try to make us choose or tell them what we do, but now, we go where we choose. As long as we cause no trouble, they leave us alone. We cause no trouble."

Tim nodded. He hesitated to ask more questions about Suhayl and what he might be doing in Yemen, not knowing what Carew would make of the bedouin. Imād didn't linger on the topic, either.

"Are you hungry, Tim?"

"I could eat, if it's okay."

"I would not offer if I did not wish to give."

Tim smiled. "I know."

"It is long after breakfast, but I will bring some food in."

"Thank you."

Imād waved Tim's thanks away and left the tent.

"You trust them?" Carew asked.

"Yes. They saved my life, and they have a very straightforward view of the world. Some things I can't understand, but the important things are clear. They'd never violate their rules about taking in guests. We may as well be a part of the family until we leave."

"Do you think they would be willing to sell us any weaponry?"

"I have no idea. I don't think they're in the arms racket," Tim said, feeling slightly defensive.

Carew's smile was almost his old one.

"I wasn't suggesting they were, but they're most likely very well-armed if they're living a nomadic lifestyle in an area that is unstable."

"I'm sure they are. I know they had guns when they rescued me."

"Exactly. It's just a matter of whether or not they can spare them."

Tim was skeptical, but he didn't say anything about it because he heard Imād coming back. He was carrying a tray. It was a much more formal meal than he'd ever had with them before.

"Oh...you didn't have to go to so much trouble, Imād," Tim said.

Imād smiled. "This is not trouble. It would be better, but my wife says you will want it now, not later and fancy."

"It looks great. Thank you."

It would have been very simple fare anywhere else, but Tim could appreciate the obvious generosity. There was a kind of flat bread, something that looked like cheese, some dried fruit and milk. Tim knew it couldn't possibly be cow milk, but he decided there was nothing to be gained in asking what animal it was from. It could be camel milk for all he knew.

Imād set the tray on the ground and left them alone once more. Tim hesitated and then, he started to eat, finding that he really was hungry again, even if he'd eaten the night before.

A thought occurred to him while he was eating. He swallowed a mouthful.

"What will happen now that it's been a few days since we were able to check in? What's the normal course of events? Back home?"

Carew smiled cynically, finally. Tim found that it was almost a relief to see that expression that had often bothered him in the past.

"What is _supposed_ to happen is that Ms. Sumner will report that we were out of contact and will shut down the operation. Once she tells the CIA, they will come and remove the equipment."

"You don't think that will happen?"

"Absolutely not. Do you really think that your team will leave you out here without backup? I'd be surprised if they didn't try to find out where we are. Given the determination your team has shown in the past and the skills they possess, I'd also be surprised if they didn't figure it out, somehow. I don't know how they'll do it, but I'm not the computer expert." Carew raised an eyebrow. "Do _you_ have any ideas?"

Tim shrugged.

"You were counting on this?"

"Well, I was hoping that we weren't going to need it."

"You were counting on this?" Tim asked again.

"I believe in covering all possible avenues, if I can. Since the possibility existed that we'd be captured at some point, it seemed wise to have people in place who could come in and give us a ride home."

"You don't want their help elsewhere?"

"No. We still need to keep our movements quiet and, no offense to your teammates, but except for Agent David, none of them are particularly subtle. I just don't want to have to deal with customs, and I think your team will find a way to get here without alerting authorities."

"You could have just told them that."

"Why? It will happen the same way, regardless."

"But you're banking on their figuring out where we are. What if they can't? It's set up to keep our location secret."

"They may find that it's not as secret as they were told it was."

Tim raised an eyebrow.

"Then, why do it this way?"

"Because we don't want them barging in on our operation if we're going to succeed. More bodies aren't going to help us. However, if we do succeed, we'll need passage out. ...and if we got into something we couldn't get out of, having them come would be useful. Besides, letting them think that they've foiled my plans makes them feel better."

Tim looked at Carew for a long moment.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Were you _ever_ normal?"

"I'd like to think not."

"Seriously, Levi."

"The past doesn't matter much at this point, Tim," Carew said. "My drug-induced delusion aside, my history determined some aspects of my character but I'd like to think that what I do now can only be blamed on me."

"Only because you don't _want_ anyone to know what might be in your past," Tim said, almost without thought. "You like the perception of always being this way...but even though I know your delusions weren't your real reactions, I can see that you had things that you hated about your childhood."

"My childhood was very stable and comfortable. I have no complaints."

"Except that you had a name you hated, eyes that made people hate you...and no father."

"I had a father. He just happened to die. It happens to the best of us."

"How?" Tim asked.

He wasn't sure why he was pushing for information. Carew was the last person he would want to be bosom buddies with, but for some reason, he wanted to know. He wanted to be able to see a real human being now that he knew there _had_ been one at one time.

Carew raised an eyebrow, but to Tim's surprise, he shrugged and answered.

"My grandparents along with a number of aunts and uncles all died in the Holocaust. My father had been imprisoned at a concentration camp. He and my mother met on their way to the United States. He never really recovered from his near-starvation and his body broke down. He died before I was ten. Then, it was just my mother and me."

"No siblings?"

"No. I had two sisters who both died in infancy. One older and one younger."

Tim was surprised at Carew's past. He would never have thought to put him in that part of history. It must have shown on his face because, in the frustrating way he had, Carew smiled.

"Yes, there are other human beings who were related to me. I didn't spring fully-formed from the head of Zeus."

"It's not that. That's a lot of loss."

"It happens. My story is hardly unique or any worse than many others could share."

"Your mother wasn't in a camp?"

"No. She was affected by it, but not physically. She was very angry at the people who had let it all happen. She told me, more than once, almost constantly, in fact, that it was lies and the people willing to believe the lies who caused the death of my father."

"And now _you_ don't lie."

Another cynical smile.

"Yes."

That was all.

"Does anyone know about who you are?"

Carew rolled his eyes. "Who I am has nothing to do with what I've told you. I choose who I am, and plenty of people know what I've chosen."

"No," Tim said. "No, I don't think anyone knows who you really are...maybe not even you."

Whatever answer Carew would have made was interrupted by Imād's return. Tim turned away from Carew and focused on his bedouin friend instead. He needed time to figure out what it was that he thought about Carew...because it had changed.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"I found something," Abby said, but it wasn't her usual triumphant declaration.

In fact, Ziva had fallen asleep and barely heard her. She tried to wake herself up.

"What did... you say?" she asked with a yawn.

"I found something, but it wasn't what I was expecting to find. This is hinky, Ziva."

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Ziva walked over to the computer where Abby had been working. Cynthia was asleep on the sofa.

"What time is it?" Ziva asked.

"Almost three."

"What did you find?"

"A hint."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that in all the mess of coding in this thing there's a clue about how to find Tim."

"You mean that someone _put_ it there for us to find?"

Abby nodded.

"I can't think of any other logical reason for it to be there. I was going to try to follow the link to the phones, but I didn't get that far...and I found this."

Abby looked at Ziva and furrowed her brow. Ziva was confused, too...but only for a moment.

"Carew."

"What?"

"He must have done this or got someone else to do it. I do not know if he is a computer person or not."

"Why would he do that when he said it had to be secret?"

"Because that is what Carew does," Ziva said, uncertain if she was impressed or infuriated. "He plans ahead."

"But how could he–?"

"He knows us, Abby," Ziva said. "He _has_ known us from the beginning. Just because we interact with him so little does not mean that he has not taken the time to know who we are and what we would do. He _knows_ that we would not sit back and leave Tim to his fate."

"So he _wants_ us to find them."

"If it became necessary, yes."

"So...should we find them, then?"

"Yes," Ziva said, firmly. "If Tim is in trouble, then, we need to find out where they are."

"Okay. Then, they're in Yemen."

"Yemen. Can you narrow it down at all?"

"The west side, not the east. I don't think I can get you more than that with this...hint."

"Would your other idea get you closer?"

"I don't know," Abby admitted. "I wasn't sure it was going to work at all."

Ziva looked at Abby and then at the equipment. This wasn't a decision she could make on her own. It was too important and too much could depend on it. She would have to talk to Gibbs and Tony about it, first.

And they'd have to see if it would really be possible to get more help...

...from the CIA.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim and Carew spent an uneventful day with the bedouin. Carew didn't try to stand up until almost noon, and even then, he was moving slowly. Tim tested out his feet and found that they weren't hurting much, now. Still, he planned on staying seated as long as he could. He had the feeling he'd be needing to move quickly again. Imād's wife kept them well-fed, and Tim tried to protest when he knew how extravagant their meals must be. Imād wouldn't hear of it.

Finally, the sun began to dip toward the horizon. Tim knew that they'd be moving on to Zamakh the next day if Carew could manage it, and he wished that he could just say that he was done and go home. ...but he couldn't. At this point, it wasn't even about paying Carew back. It was about Carew himself.

He walked out of the tent and looked toward the west. The clouds were long gone. It was like the storm had never happened. It was hot and muggy and Tim hated the weather.

...but this was beautiful. When he saw a sight like this, he could understand why the bedouin had resisted settling in the cities. Watching the sun sink below the horizon, casting long shadows on the dunes, was a sight he'd never had before. It was amazing. Who would want to give that up?

"Not worried about someone taking a potshot at you?"

Tim looked back at Carew as he came out of the tent.

"No. I'm not. I think that, if that group was still coming after us, they would have found us already. I tried to cover our tracks a bit, but I had to leave the truck. They could have followed us. I don't think they did."

Carew didn't reply. Tim looked at him.

"What do _you_ think?"

"You're probably right. I wouldn't be surprised if they were hired to throw us off the track. Once we got away, all they probably cared about was getting their truck back. If they have it, they're done."

"I hope so. We have enough problems."

Carew laughed.

"This is going pretty well, actually."

"Ray could be dead. We lost all our equipment. We don't even know how we're going to get back to Sana'a, let alone out to Zamakh." Tim looked back at the horizon. "If this is going well, I'd hate to see going badly."

"You've already seen going badly."

"Yeah." Tim took a deep breath at the reminder. "If this is the life you want to have, I don't get you at all."

"Who said this was what I wanted?"

Tim looked at Carew one last time. "You've chosen a way of dealing with all this. I guess it works for you to pretend that you have no one and need no one, but even with everything I've gone through, I never want to have your outlook on life. I pity you for the way you must live."

Carew said nothing...not that Tim expected him to. He started back to the tent when he saw a bit of a crowd gathering. He wasn't sure if he should join them. He still didn't know how all the etiquette worked.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of movement and a man strode out of the crowd, looking like he owned the world around him. Tim smiled.

"Suhayl," he said.

The man stopped, looked at Tim for a moment.

"Tim McGee. What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story. I'm glad you're back. I wasn't sure when Imād said you weren't here."

Suhayl had that same air of authority that he'd had when Tim had first met him. He was in control and he knew he was.

Suhayl turned back to Imād.

"Qultu kāna lī-l-akhbār," Imād said.

"You did," Suhayl said. He looked back at Tim. "I never thought to see you here."

"I didn't ever think I'd be here, but like I said, it's a long story. Levi probably will need to speak with you. He's the one in charge."

Suhayl wasn't easy to read, but Tim thought he might have surprised him.

"He's back at the tent."

Imad started speaking rapidly in Arabic to Suhayl. Tim hoped he was just explaining what had happened. Suhayl suddenly walked toward the tent, leaving Imād and Tim behind.

"What's–?" Tim asked.

"Go," Imād said.

Tim hurried after Suhayl. Carew was still standing where Tim had left him.

"You," Suhayl said.

Carew turned and smiled.

"I'm sorry we were late."

"You never told me that he would be coming, too."

"No, I didn't. I didn't know it mattered. I take it you two are acquainted?" Carew asked.

"Suhayl's the one who saved me," Tim said. "Didn't you know that?"

"No. For obvious reasons, we weren't making much effort to get all the details of your situation last year."

"I guess." Then, it finally dawned on him. He looked at Suhayl. "You're Levi's source?"

Suhayl smiled slightly. Rather like Carew but without the cynicism.

"Or he is mine."

Tim smiled in response.

"You do have a long story to tell, Tim. But not out here where all can hear what they should not hear. Come."

Suhayl led them through the camp to another tent. He gestured for them to stay out for a moment. He stepped inside and then came out a moment later.

"Come inside. I am hungry. We will eat and discuss what is going on."

"Thank you," Tim said.

Suhayl smiled and then looked at Carew who nodded slightly. They went into Suhayl's tent and sat on the rugs. It wasn't an ornate space, by any means, but Tim could see the difference between Suhayl's tent and the one where he and Carew had been staying. This was clearly his home.

"Baba!"

Samia came running from behind a curtain into the space. Suhayl hugged her and then shushed her. He spoke to her, and she seemed unhappy about whatever he'd said. He wasn't angry, just firm. Eventually, she ducked behind the curtain again and left them.

"Samia is still learning."

"What is she learning?"

For the first time, Suhayl sounded like a father.

"Whatever she can, as quickly as she can...unless it is being taught by her parents."

Tim smiled. "Imād said she would be one to watch for when she was older. He said she was just like you."

There was a bit of a twinkle in Suhayl's eye, although he didn't smile. "Perhaps Imād is right."

Then, a woman brought out a large tray and set it down without a word. She withdrew behind the curtain again.

"Your wife?" Tim asked.

"Yes."

"This must have taken time to prepare. I'm grateful."

"You are a guest."

Tim understood that he wasn't supposed to say more about it. Still, it wasn't like the curtains were soundproof. She must have heard. He had heard of societies where the women did not mingle with strangers of the opposite sex. It was just strange for him that a meal would be eaten without the family there. Still, he didn't complain. This wasn't his culture. It was theirs and just seeing Suhayl's patience with Samia told him that this wasn't oppression. It was simply a tradition.

They ate silently for a few minutes, but then, Suhayl got down to business.

"I waited at Zamakh, but you did not come."

"We were lured off track," Carew said. "We lost our equipment when we were captured."

"I cannot replace electronics. What we have here will not help you for that purpose."

"What about weapons?" Carew asked.

Suhayl nodded. "Yes. I can make sure you are armed. That is not difficult. What you want to do may be more difficult than you thought."

"Zamakh is where they are, then?"

"Yes. There is a facility there. It is underground to conceal it from those who would not want it there."

"Like you?" Tim asked.

"Yes. Like me. People like them bring nothing but harm to my homeland. I do not want them here. I will do what it takes to get them out."

"I realize that this isn't particularly important for what we're doing, but who are you working for, Suhayl?"

"I work for people like him," he said, gesturing to Carew. "More than that, I should not say."

"Okay. I can accept that."

"You have changed from last year, Tim. You are better."

"Yes, I am."

"Good. Now, yes, Zamakh is where they are, but if you are right, they will see us coming too soon."

"Heavily-guarded?" Carew asked.

"Not with men."

"Smartdust," Tim said, softly.

"Yes. Very likely. You wished to know if the American was there. He is. He looks much like the photo you showed to me. This man, this American...he is not a prisoner. He may not be in charge, but he is not being forced to do anything. What I saw there was a man enjoying his position, not one wishing to be saved from it."

"After 30 years, though," Tim said, "couldn't he have become used to a prison if it _was_ that? You can get used to almost anything, given time."

"After 30 years, if he _was_ a prisoner, I do not think he would be alive, still," Suhayl said. "These people are not the kind who wait to be obeyed. No, this man is doing all this on his own. If he is not the one in charge, he is still very much in control of what happens there."

"How far have they gotten? Do you know?" Tim asked.

"No. These electronic things mean very little to me. I understand that they can be dangerous, that the production must be stopped here, but I do not know how they work, nor if they have made them work as you fear."

Tim nodded. He wouldn't have thought Suhayl knew about it, but if he was that well-connected, Tim could also see him being the kind of person who just knew about everything.

Like Carew.

"We should not put off going back if you are still determined to do it."

"I am," Carew said.

"I thought you would be." He paused and then raised an eyebrow. "The head of the CIA would not be here if it were something that could be ignored."

Carew didn't give him the satisfaction of showing any consternation that Suhayl knew who he was. Tim didn't know if he felt any, either.

There was a subtle battle of wills going on. Who would be in charge, who would give any information, first. Tim could see Suhayl was probing a little, and Carew wasn't budging. He'd fully recovered his mental acuity and he wouldn't show any weakness.

"Do you have the explosives?" Carew asked.

"Yes. They are in my pack."

"How are we going to get there?" Tim asked. "I realize both of you probably know this already, but I don't."

Suhayl looked away from Carew and nodded at Tim.

"We will use camels."

"That sounds uncomfortable," Tim said.

Suhayl smiled slightly.

"But we will not be going the whole way on camels. Normally, I would use them and not worry. They are best for moving through the desert, but I think we will want to get there faster than the camels could take us."

"How far is Zamakh from here?" Tim asked.

"Approximately 180 kilometers."

"Yeah, I don't want to do that on camels."

"We will go south and meet with someone who has a truck. That will take us where we need to go."

"We'll have to walk part of the way, won't we?"

"Yes. Very likely. If it is possible to avoid detection, we should do that."

"Well, then...when do we leave?"

"Before the sun rises in the morning. I need to speak to the diwān and sleep for a night."

"Of course," Tim said.

"I would like to hear your story, Tim."

"Sure."

"Wait a moment."

Suhayl got to his feet and left the tent. Carew looked at him.

"You are clearly very well-liked here."

"I don't know why," Tim admitted. "I was so out of it most the time I was here before. I guess I impressed them."

"What did you do?"

"I tried to keep Samia from suffering because of the people who had taken me. If I had been alone, it wouldn't have done any good. He hit me once and I was down. Really, I would have died if they hadn't taken me to a hospital."

"You saved the daughter of the head of the clan?"

"I didn't know that at the time."

"Of course, you didn't."

Suhayl came back into the tent.

"Mahmoud will show you what weapons we can spare. You may choose what will work best," he said to Carew.

"I can do that. Thank you."

Carew nodded slightly and left the tent. As soon as he was gone Suhayl returned to the rugs and sat down opposite Tim.

"You are not here by force?" he asked, seriously.

"No, I'm not."

"But you do not want to be here. You should _not_ be here."

"I _should_ be here, Suhayl. I owe Levi a debt that I'm now repaying."

"What debt did you owe him that you would risk your life by coming back to the desert?"

"He helped me save my team when they'd been captured and tortured. He also kept me from being taken after I was injured by shrapnel. I've learned my lesson about making deals with him, but I had to repay for what he did do for me."

Suhayl nodded in acceptance.

"Imād says that you have recovered. I see it in your eyes. You are very different from last year."

"Yes. I am. A lot better than I was. I'm not perfect."

"Who is?"

Tim smiled. "Yeah. I still have days, but mostly...mostly, I'm better."

"How did you get the time that you needed? I could see that your friends were determined to keep you safe and you were determined to give up."

"They forced me to hide in a safe house while I recovered. I started seeing a psychiatrist. He's helped me work through everything that happened. I spent months there in hiding. It was probably the best thing that happened to me in the last five years or so. Once this is over, I don't owe any debts that require payment. There are people I will always feel indebted to...like you and your people. You saved my life, and I can't pay that back."

"It is not required."

"I know. There are other people like that, but those are the kinds of debts that make me feel better, not worse. This debt I'm paying back now... I made the deal in desperation, and I'll be free of that."

Suhayl looked at him for a long time without speaking. Tim met his gaze evenly. He could tell that Suhayl was trying to see whether or not Tim was being honest. Finally, he nodded.

"Imād was not certain if all you had said was completely true. He did not think you were lying, but he could believe that you might if you thought you had to protect us."

"I'm not lying. I don't like Levi much at all, but I... I can't believe I'm saying this, but I trust him. I know what to expect with him."

"Very well. We will not eat like this once we begin. You should eat more."

"It's really good. It's different from what I'm used to, but it's good."

"My wife cooks very well." There was a pause and then, he raised his voice just a little bit. "She would not let me try it even if I had wanted to."

The curtains rustled just a little bit, and Tim couldn't help but grin.

"Do you ever eat together?"

"Yes. Most meals. But not with guests."

"Right. I'm sorry to keep you away from your family."

"It is not you who keeps me away. It is a choice I made many years ago. It is a choice my wife understands and supports. I do not often have to leave for long, but when it happens, I go and come back. They are always here, waiting."

"It's nice having someplace to call home."

"Yes. The desert is my home. It is all I want and I will fight to keep it."

Tim nodded.

There was a sound outside the tent. Suhayl got to his feet, gesturing for Tim to stay seated. Fahd came inside. He spoke quietly and quickly to Suhayl in Arabic. Then, he left. Suhayl walked back.

"I will send what is left of the meal to your tent. I must speak with the diwan."

"All right." Tim got up and then, he stopped. "Suhayl, I know that you don't find this necessary, but I do from my side." He held out his hand. "Thank you so much for everything you've done for me. I couldn't really say it before, but I want to say it now."

Suhayl reached out and clasped Tim's forearm. Tim did the same.

"I hope we will always be on the same side, Tim McGee."

"Even if something happens and we can't be, I'll still be glad I met you."

Suhayl smiled and let Tim go.

Tim walked back to the tent. Carew was already inside. He had his weaponry and ammunition.

"Suhayl is going to make sure we eat very well tonight. The rest of the food should be sent over here while he talks to the diwan."

"Good. I'm sure we'll need it," Carew said. "I took one rifle, but I think we'll do better with handguns. They didn't have so many of those, but plenty of ammo."

Tim nodded. He took the guns Carew offered and got the feel for them. They ate the rest of the food Suhayl sent and then, they bedded down for the night.

As he lay in the dark, Tim stared up toward the top of the tent. He was nervous, yes, but there was also a feeling of anticipation. While he knew that there was no guarantee of getting out of this alive, he had to admit that he felt ready.

He was ready to be free.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Too soon, Tim was waking up in the darkness.

"Tim, we have to get going."

Tim yawned and sat up, looking around...and seeing only dark shapes moving.

"I'm not even going to _ask_ what time it is."

"Time to go."

Another yawn and Tim started moving himself. Carew was gathering things that Tim couldn't see.

"Are you ready?" Tim asked, making sure that Carew really was as recovered as he was acting.

"Yes. Fully-recovered."

"Good."

There was a sound outside the tent. Tim straightened as someone came in.

"Tim, you are leaving?"

"Yes, Imād," Tim said. "While I'm not happy about being out here, necessarily, I was really glad to see you and Suhayl and Samia again."

Tim was surprised when Imād suddenly hugged him.

"Fi Amanillah," Imād said, softly. "I do not know what it is that you must do, but I know it must be dangerous. Fi Amanillah."

"Shokran, Imād," Tim said. "I can never thank you enough."

"I will be surprised if I see you again, but I have already been blessed to see you healed. I will now think of you like this and not as I saw you last year."

Tim smiled and watched as Imād slipped out of the tent. Then, he remembered that Carew was there. He decided to say nothing. Carew said nothing, either. He just handed Tim a gun and ammunition, along with a knife.

"Suhayl has the explosives."

"We can't replace the electronics. What will we do about that?"

"Hope we have time to make use of theirs when we get there."

"Make use for what?"

"To take note of what they already have done and what they're planning. What little you got from Bill isn't enough. We need to know exactly where they're at. Stopping these people won't get rid of the risk. You can't get rid of the problem when it's come up once. You can only delay it and try to find a way to fight against it. We can't do that without knowing what more they've done beyond what we already know they _can_ do."

Tim nodded. Then, there was a sound outside the tent which warned them to Suhayl's entrance.

"You are ready?" he asked, brusquely.

"Yes."

"Good. We will not waste time. We will leave before others can see us go and wonder."

Suhayl strode out of the tent, leaving Carew and Tim to follow behind. Tim hurried out of the tent into the gray of the coming dawn. There were three camels. He stared at them uncertainly. This was something he had no experience with. He'd never even ridden a horse. A camel was a lot...taller.

"How do I get on?" he asked.

Suhayl gestured for Tim to come to a camel. Tim trusted that Suhayl wasn't going to do something silly with him. This was serious business.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"I guess."

Suhayl nodded and then grabbed Tim by the leg and lifted, hoisting him up onto the saddle. Tim nearly spilled over onto the ground on the other side but managed to keep himself balanced.

"That is how you get on. Here is your breakfast. We will eat as we ride."

Suhayl handed him a small bag and a larger pack. Tim looped the pack onto his back and then waited. Suhayl helped Carew mount as well and then got on his own camel.

"He will stand up with his back legs first. Hold on," Suhayl warned.

Just in time. Tim's camel began to get up and Tim felt like he was going to be tipped forward onto the sand. Just as he was sure it was too steep to stay in place, the camel became horizontal again. Tim felt ridiculous, and feeling ridiculous while on the way to a dangerous operation seemed incongruous.

Still, he was upright. That was something.

"It is not like a horse," Suhayl said. "You must accept the gait that the camel takes."

"I've never ridden a horse, either," Tim said.

"Then, there is nothing to unlearn. You will be sore if you try to sit as you are. If you can balance, you will feel more comfortable if you cross your legs on the saddle."

Tim was skeptical, but he tried it. A few false starts and he was sitting cross-legged on top of a camel. It _was_ more comfortable. Suhayl might have smiled, but he just got them moving. He led the way, and Tim and Carew both followed docilely behind. The camels plodded along. It was a very different feeling, and Tim didn't think he was really stable. Still, they _were_ covering quite a bit of ground.

Finally, they were on their way to Zamakh.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"So...we know he's in Yemen or at least, that's where he was going," Tony said.

Abby nodded. "At least, that's what I found."

"And you're sure that you weren't just being brilliant?"

"I'm always brilliant, but I have to admit that I didn't do very much this time. Anyone with a little bit of programming skills could have found this."

"You're sure it's real?" Gibbs asked.

"As sure as I can be," Abby said. "It was definitely put there on purpose. Since we had no idea where they were before. I don't know why Carew would bother putting something like this there for me to find if all he wanted was to throw us off a trail we weren't even on."

"Because he's a jerk," Tony muttered.

"But he has wanted us around before," Ziva said. "I could see him wanting that now. The only reason we would be looking would be if they were not able to contact us...if something had gone wrong."

Ziva looked at Tony and Gibbs. After explaining what they'd found to Cynthia, they had all tried to get some sleep, but it had been hard, knowing that they had a clue as to wear Tim might be...and knowing that he probably needed help.

"I want to try and find him if we can."

"Yemen narrows it down," Tony said, "but it's not like that gives us a real location. Even western Yemen. We can't just go walking around and asking if anyone has seen Tim somewhere."

"We could start in Sana'a," Ziva said. "It would be easiest to fly there, anyway."

"And you're assuming that these other CIA guys are going to come through, too."

"Yes, I am."

"Well, forgive me if I'm still a little skeptical. I trust Dr. Hicks, but that's because he's not really a CIA person. He's not the one who's going to make the decision."

Gibbs hadn't said much to this point. Not that it was a surprise, but Ziva wanted him to weigh in, one way or the other.

"Gibbs, this is the best chance we have. We may be able to find a clue about where they are there, but we will not find _anything_ here. This time, we can try to help, and we can try it without worrying about owing anyone."

Gibbs looked at Ziva for a long time without speaking. Ziva knew he was considering the possibility that their going would do any good at all. Last time, there had been no question that they'd go and bring Tim back. This time...would it help or hinder for them to fly to Yemen in the hopes of finding Tim there?

Besides that, they all had a vested interest in getting Tim back, even beyond the fact that he was their friend. No matter how you sliced it, Tim had given up a lot to save their lives, including making the deal that had led to this situation in the first place. They had to pay it back, even though Tim hated that they felt that way.

"Tony, call Dr. Hicks. See if they can get us to Sana'a. Cynthia will need to report to the CIA, let them assume that we're playing ball."

"All right, Boss," Tony said. "I don't know that it'll work."

"I don't, either. That's why we're going to try."

Tony got up and headed to off to make a discreet phone call. Gibbs leaned over before Ziva could get up.

"Don't let this turn into restitution. That's not what he wants," Gibbs said, softly.

"I do not care what Tim wants in this case," Ziva said. "I will not let him be lost if it is in my power to stop it. I will not let the CIA take him away, too. Ray was bad enough to see. Tim has healed so much. I cannot let him be hurt again."

"We're not going to waste Tim's sacrifice. That would be worse."

Ziva felt rebellious, but she understood the warning. They were going to be sneaking around, getting involved in things that could lead to outright war if they messed up badly enough. Even though he was important, Tim's life could not take precedence over all that.

Finally, she nodded, and Gibbs let her go.

It was time to start planning and hoping that they could help.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Suhayl pointed to a smudge, perhaps a mile away.

"That is where we are going to," he said. "When we get there, I will do all the talking. You will say nothing. Understand?"

"Of course," Tim said.

Suhayl looked back at Carew.

"This is your show," Carew said.

"Good."

"Does this man work for you? Or for the people you work for?" Tim asked.

"No to both questions, but I know him well, and I will not ruin the help he gives just for this."

"Okay."

Suhayl urged his camel forward again, and the other two camels followed along. Tim had almost got the hang of the strange gait the camels had, but he wouldn't mind never riding one again.

When they reached the smudge, it was a man, a tent and a truck. Suhayl got his camel to kneel down. He gestured for Tim and Carew to stay where they were. Tim had no idea how to get off the camel anyway; so he was fine with that.

Suhayl walked to the man and spoke with him in a low voice. Tim didn't know what Carew was thinking, but he was thinking that he was glad he trusted Suhayl. Otherwise, he was pretty much at his mercy.

The man went into the tent and Suhayl walked back to Tim's camel. He touched it on the shoulder and suddenly, the camel knelt on its front legs. Tim wasn't ready for the rocking and he toppled forward down the camel's neck and to the sand. Then, he had the camel's big lips nuzzling at his hair.

He heard some quick throat clearing and the camel backed off. Then, Suhayl was leaning over him.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine. I hope I didn't embarrass you."

"He did not see. You only embarrassed yourself."

Tim laughed and took Suhayl's hand. He stood up quickly and started brushing the sand off his clothes.

"Great. Thanks."

"I am sorry. I did not think to warn you."

"Well, Levi, you can take warning from what happened to me," Tim said, looking back at Carew.

Suhayl walked over and got the camel to kneel. Carew hung on tightly and managed to stay mounted. Then, Suhayl helped him off.

"He would have fallen if he had tried to dismount first," Suhayl said.

"More than likely," Carew agreed. "Luckily, I am willing to learn."

The man came out of the tent and handed Suhayl a key.

"Come," Suhayl said.

Tim and Carew went and climbed into the truck with Suhayl. Tim didn't say anything until they were on their way. Now, heading east toward Zamakh.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Dr. Hicks' phone rang just as he was getting ready to leave. He sighed. Today had been a bad day for his feet and he wanted to get home and prop them up...maybe soak in the tub for a while. It would be a relief.

However, he had to answer. So he did.

"Dr. Hicks."

"_Hey, it's Tony...DiNozzo."_

"Oh. Good evening, Tony. What's up?"

"_Tim and Carew haven't checked in for a few days."_

Dr. Hicks felt his stomach clench with worry.

"That's terrible. I'm sorry."

"_Me, too...but we wanted to see if what you thought about being able to help us really would pan out."_

"You know where they are?"

"_Sort of."_

Dr. Hicks laughed a little. "Sort of?"

"_They are or were in Yemen, but we don't know more than that."_

"Just...the country?"

"_Yeah."_

"That's..."

"_Really vague, I know. It's the best we have. We want to get to Sana'a and see what we can find out there...but getting there conventionally just won't be fast enough, we don't think."_

While it seemed kind of ridiculous to think that they'd be able to track them down, Dr. Hicks didn't have to think about it at all. He would have to try.

"I'll see what I can do, Tony. I make no guarantees, but I'll ask."

"_Thanks."_

"No need to thank me until I know that I can help."

"_Yes, there is. Thank you."_

"My pleasure."

Dr. Hicks hung up and considered for a moment. Was now the right time? What would Roy say? Well, no way to find out except to ask. He pulled out the card he'd been given just a few days ago and dialed.

"_Dr. Hicks."_

"Director Morgan."

"_I didn't expect to hear from you."_

"You didn't hope to, but I think you probably expected it."

"_I know they've gone missing. No check in for days. In fact, probably more days than should have gone by before we were told."_

"They have an idea of where they are."

There was a long pause.

"_How?"_

"I don't know. I didn't ask."

"_You're asking?"_

"Yes."

Another long pause.

"_I'll call you within a day. Don't call me."_

"Understood."

The call ended. Dr. Hicks wondered if he should report on that response, that non-response.

_No. It won't do them any good to know that I've been told to wait. They wouldn't expect that quick of an answer, anyway._

Decision made, Dr. Hicks decided to go home and rest his aching feet.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

It was a jolting, bumpy ride to Zamakh. Suhayl had taken them off road, and Tim had been forced to brace himself against the dashboard to keep from being thrown against Suhayl and/or Carew. They couldn't go very fast, but Suhayl pushed the truck to its limits.

Three hours later, with almost nothing being said, Suhayl slowed the truck down.

"We are almost at Zamakh."

"Good. I feel like my teeth are about to rattle out of my skull," Tim said.

Suhayl brought the truck to a stop.

"Do you wish to try to go in today?"

Carew looked out through the windshield. There was nothing ahead of them. Nothing behind them. Nothing all around.

Just dust.

"No. Let's wait until early morning tomorrow. We can find a place to camp out here. Not too close to the base."

Suhayl nodded and started the truck forward again. He drove for another half an hour and then stopped.

"We should not keep driving from here."

"What about the truck?" Tim asked. "How likely is it that someone will see it?"

Suhayl gave that consideration.

"Not very. It is a possibility, but this is a vehicle which will attract unwanted attention. We would like to avoid that as much as possible. There is a route to an entrance that will allow us to remain mostly concealed. It can only be reached on foot."

Tim nodded.

"Okay."

"Speaking of feet," Carew said.

"Feeling fine, for now," Tim said.

"All right. Let's go."

They got out of the truck, gathered their supplies and, with Suhayl in the lead, they began to walk toward the base. There was no sign of it so far, but if the entire thing was underground, they weren't likely to see much until they were there.

This part of Yemen looked a little different from where they had been before. There were some mountains in the distance, and it was less of the sand dunes and more of the baked earth. It was hot and dry and...empty. Tim didn't know if they were still in a part of the Empty Quarter, but he would have no trouble believing it if they were. It was plenty empty.

They walked silently through the desert. Tim's feet started aching about an hour into their walk. He was about to ask for a break when Suhayl held up his hand and then gestured. He walked toward an outcropping. Carew and Tim followed him to a little bit of shelter.

"We should not go any closer today. We risk being seen."

"Good," Tim said. "I needed a break anyway."

"If we have to run?" Suhayl asked.

"I can if I need to. If I don't, then, I won't."

Suhayl nodded. He sat down and got out some food from his pack. He, then, gestured for them to do the same. It was dried meat, some dried fruit and bread. They ate without comment and then, it was time to decide what they would be doing when they went in.

"What is our focus when we go in?" Suhayl asked.

Carew leaned forward.

"We have two things that _have_ to be done. We have to find and take out Higgins. No matter what else we do, we can't leave the source of the knowledge behind, no matter what he's already shared. Second, we have to destroy this installation completely. If this is where they're making plans, storing plans, manufacturing, it can't be allowed to survive."

"Are you concerned about the government of Yemen protesting?"

"They can't protest if they don't know who did it. There's a reason why we're going in such small numbers and completely off the grid."

Suhayl nodded in acceptance of that.

"What about getting what they have on their computers?" Tim asked.

"That's secondary. Ideally, we will, but it's not the focus. Our focus has to be on destruction."

Tim looked at Suhayl, but he seemed unconcerned. However, Suhayl _always_ seemed unconcerned. Then, Tim realized what Carew was _not_ saying.

"What about Bri?"

"She has to be tangential."

"What if she's there? You can't just blow the place up if she's still alive in there."

Carew's eyebrow raised. Tim supposed it seemed strange that he would be determined to save someone who had tortured him, but Tim couldn't bear the thought of killing someone just because she was officially a tangent.

"Like I said, she's tangential."

Tim shook his head.

"She can't be."

"She has to be," Carew said.

"Maybe to you she has to be, but not to me. If she's alive in there, we're getting her out."

Carew said nothing about it, but Tim didn't expect him to. He figured that Suhayl didn't know Bri was Carew's daughter. Obviously, Carew wasn't going to share that information. Instead, they focused on how they would plan for the next morning's invasion. They would have to hope for an unobserved entrance, but with the potential for smartdust, they couldn't be sure of that. They would just have to try and hope. Suhayl had seen very few people there which would help. If they could get in unobserved, or at least, mostly unnoticed, then, they could split up and get the work done more quickly. They would find Higgins, first. Then, plant the explosives. Bri wasn't mentioned again, but Tim mentally added that they'd look for her, too, before they got out. He didn't like Bri. In fact, he might even go so far as to say that he hated her, but she was still a human being and he couldn't abandon her.

Plans made, they bedded down for the night, as unobtrusively as possible. Carew and Suhayl seemed to go to sleep instantly, but Tim couldn't. He lay back and thought about what was coming the next day. Finally, they were going to be _doing_ something, but it was the most dangerous part of this whole enterprise...and to be successful, they were going to be killing a man. If Suhayl was right (and Tim saw no reason to doubt it), then, this man had been acting the traitor for thirty years. He had to be stopped, and, of course, stopping him conventionally wasn't going to happen. Tim understood that, but he hated it.

"Tim."

The voice was so soft, that he didn't know who it was. He turned toward it and saw Suhayl looking at him.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Who is this woman you spoke of? You wish to save her. Is she your wife?"

Tim smiled briefly. "No. Not even close. What little I know of her, I don't like. She's Levi's daughter."

No question about it, Suhayl was surprised.

"But he is not interested in saving her."

"He is, but he won't let himself put her first. That's the way he is. Family doesn't come first. The country does. Stopping Higgins is more important."

"And yet, you wish to save her."

"Because it's the right thing to do, and I don't see any reason to write her off unless we know otherwise."

Suhayl looked at Carew and then back at Tim.

"Then, we will see if she is dead or alive before we leave."

"Good."

"Now, you should sleep. We will need what we can get before tomorrow."

Tim nodded, but he couldn't deny that he felt unaccountably comforted by Suhayl agreeing with him. It was silly, maybe, but he felt determined to make sure that, if Bri was still alive, she would stay that way.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Cynthia was sitting at her desk, thinking about what had happened. She was worried, not only about Tim, but also about the fact that she had, in essence, broken the rules governing being the base for a secret operation. She had known that she was supposed to be done, but she had let other concerns take precedence. She had taken advantage of the fact that there was no one to stop her.

But was it the right thing?

From the individual perspective, yes, it was. Tim deserved a chance to get back, especially when it wasn't his fault that he was involved at all.

From the larger perspective? Probably not. She just hoped that it would all work out, no matter what happened in the short term.

"Cynthia?" Jenny asked.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Could you come into my office for a moment, please?"

Cynthia nodded and followed Jenny.

Jenny gestured for her to sit and then, she pushed a couple of buttons.

"There. Now, we're secure. What's happening?"

"I can't tell you very much, Director."

"You know more than I do, and I haven't asked, but I need to know before I have to start resisting proddings from other agencies."

Cynthia nodded.

"Tim and Carew are, or were, somewhere in Yemen. They missed two check-ins. At this point, they've been out of contact for almost five days. The MCRT is in the process of figuring out how to get out there and look for Tim themselves."

"What?" Jenny sighed. "Have they thought about the risk they'd be taking?"

"I doubt it. Or if they have, they don't care. They want to find Tim and make sure he comes back alive."

"Do you know how they'll be getting there?"

"No. They didn't tell me what they were thinking, but it wasn't going to be through commercial airlines."

"Of course, it wouldn't be. That wouldn't be fast enough and even Gibbs knows that it would draw too much attention." Jenny sighed again. "Anything else you can tell me?"

"I reported the loss of contact to the CIA this morning. I'm assuming that the equipment will all be gone by the time I go home tonight."

"Okay. I'll have to talk to Gibbs and see if he'll listen to me at all."

"I can tell you right now that if you're going to try to tell him not to go, he's going to ignore you," Cynthia said. "They're not going to risk losing Tim if they can stop it at all. They're planning on flying to Sana'a and working out from there...if they can get that far."

Jenny nodded. "I know that. Unfortunately. All right. That's what I needed to know. I can field questions as needed."

Cynthia nodded in reply and got up to leave.

"Cynthia."

She turned back.

"Thank you. I know you hate this. I remember you telling me that your only requirement was that you never have to deal with black ops again."

"As long as this is the end of it," Cynthia said and smiled. Then, she left the office and sat down at her desk.

While Gibbs wouldn't be happy about Jenny questioning his decision, Cynthia was glad to have her updated. Jenny had been a part of this from the beginning and it wouldn't be right to keep her out. Gibbs might look at her as an uncertain ally, but Cynthia knew that Jenny had shielded Tim from a lot of scrutiny.

It was all out of Cynthia's hands, now. Whatever came next, she would only know the results, not the actual events.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **I wrote the description below of the instability in Sana'a before all the stuff with ISIS got going and before the current meltdown. I'm well aware that Yemen is different from how I wrote it, but it wasn't worth trying to update to the situation now. In another few months, things will probably be very different again. :)

* * *

**Chapter 21**

It was very early in the morning when his phone rang. Dr. Hicks debated whether or not he wanted to answer it, but in the end, there was very little choice. An inconvenient phone call could be a patient in crisis.

It could also be a telemarketer from Vanuatu wanting to sell him the latest and greatest in whatever technology, but unfortunately, Dr. Hicks knew that he couldn't take the chance.

"Hello? This is Dr. Hicks," he mumbled.

"_Tell them to be at Dulles in three hours."_

Dr. Hicks was instantly awake.

"Dulles?"

"_Yes. They should go to General Aviation and say that they're waiting for flight 451. They'll be taken to the plane."_

"General Aviation. Flight 451. Three hours."

"_Yes. I hope I don't regret this."_

"So do I."

The call ended. Dr. Hicks sat up in bed and dialed Tony's number.

"_Hello? Who is this?"_

The sleepy voice made him smile. Clearly, even worry for Tim's safety wasn't enough to keep Tony awake all night.

"Tony, this is Dr. Hicks."

"_Dr. Hicks? What is it? And what time is it?"_

"Earlier than I wish it was, but I have news for you."

"_News?"_

"A ride. To Yemen."

"_What? You got it?"_

"Yes, I did...to my own surprise. You have three hours. You need to be at General Aviation at Dulles in three hours. When you get there, you tell them that you're going to be on flight 451 and you'll be taken to your plane."

"_How are you doing this?"_

"I have more pull in the CIA than I thought I did. There are no strings attached so far as I am aware. That doesn't mean someone won't try to put them there, later, but at this point, there are none. I'd recommend not being difficult, though. I have a feeling that this is as much a testing of the waters as it is help. If it's too onerous, the help may evaporate."

There was a pause.

"_Okay. Thank you, Dr. Hicks."_

"My pleasure. I hope you can do what you want...and I think you people have a better chance than most. Good luck."

"_Thank you."_

Another disconnection and Dr. Hicks lay back down in his bed. He took a couple of breaths and stared at the ceiling.

He had every confidence in the people involved. It was all a matter of who was on the other side, fighting against them.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs, Tony and Ziva parked and walked into General Aviation.

"I do not like this," Ziva said in a low voice. "We just come and trust them?"

"I don't think we have much choice," Tony said. "It's this or nothing. ...and since you're here, I'm not worried about them being able to take us down."

Ziva smiled a little, but she was clearly not happy. Gibbs said nothing. He just walked to the counter where a friendly-looking woman sat, waiting for them to approach.

"Hello. How can I help you?" she asked.

"We're looking for flight 451," Gibbs said.

"Flight 451?" she repeated. "I don't think that..."

Before they could think that Ziva was right, that this had been nothing more than a trick, she stopped talking.

"Oh, I see. If you'll just wait here for a minute, someone will be out."

She walked into the back, leaving them standing alone.

"Well, _something _is happening," Tony said.

"What _kind_ of something, though?" Ziva asked.

A man came striding out of the back. He had dark brown eyes, currently narrowed with something near suspicion. He didn't have the look of a regular American, but when he spoke, there was no trace of an accent.

"You're here for flight 451?"

"Yes," Gibbs said.

"This way."

They followed along behind him. He made no conversation and they got the unspoken message that they weren't supposed to speak, either. They walked together out of the building and to a hangar where a plane was waiting. So far, so good.

Once they got on the plane, the man closed the hatch and then looked at them.

"I thought there'd be more of you," he said.

"The more we bring along, the more obvious we'll be," Gibbs said. "You are?"

"Agent Donovan, CIA. You are Agent Gibbs, DiNozzo and David. We thought that you might have brought the M.E. along like you did last time."

"We don't anticipate needing him," Gibbs said.

"I see." Donovan picked up a bag from one of the seats.

Tony tensed a little bit as he opened it, but he simply pulled out some papers.

"Yemen is unstable, right now. The current government isn't strong enough to lead, but so far, things have been holding together. There's no guarantee for how long that state will last. There's some degree of corruption but not as bad as other countries. The north and south don't always get along." He handed the papers around. "We got visas that will allow you to move at will, but if the government topples, they won't be worth anything. We have no indication of that happening at the moment, but you never know."

"Understood," Gibbs said.

"We'll be flying to Sana'a. We have permission to remain for an undetermined amount of time, but at some point, they'll start asking why we're there."

"To find our friend," Gibbs said.

"I understand that, but it may not be enough."

So far, Donovan hadn't expressed any emotion. He was simply fulfilling an assignment. That much was obvious to everyone. He had no stake in this, but he would do his job.

"We won't be leaving without him," Gibbs said. "If that means you have to leave without us, so be it. We'll take our chances, but until we know one way or the other, we're not leaving."

Donovan raised an eyebrow and the walked out of the cabin.

"CIA spook," Tony said when he was gone. "Why him?"

"Because, undoubtably, he is very good at his job," Ziva said. "He is stiff, but he is skilled. He has shown nothing of what he feels."

Donovan came back in.

"The pilots are ready to leave if you are."

"We're ready," Tony said.

"Good. Have a seat. It's a long flight." Then, he looked at Ziva. "You're Israeli. I hope you'll have the sense not to flaunt that."

"I never have before."

"Well, don't start now."

Tony bristled a little bit, but Ziva just shook her head. It wasn't worth it.

Donovan sat down, facing away from them, and said nothing more.

The three of them sat down close to each other and began to talk in low voices.

"Okay, so, when we get there, what do we do, first?" Tony asked. "Unless you two have connections there, we're going to be walking blind."

"I have none in Yemen. This is not a place I have ever worked," Ziva admitted, "but there is a way we can make progress. Away from the center, people will be living their lives without worrying about the outside world. They may be willing to speak with us if we ask them about who they've seen."

"That's a risk," Gibbs said. "We can't know who else might be looking for Tim, too."

"That's probably a risk we'll have to take, Boss," Tony said. "We can't just sit around and hope we hear something. I'm pretty sure Donovan wasn't kidding about what he said, and I'm pretty sure he wouldn't hesitate to leave us."

"Do you think he knows about Carew?" Ziva asked, almost in a whisper.

Gibbs shrugged. There was no way of knowing just how far that particular tidbit might have been shared within the CIA, but finding out was more than they wanted to risk right now. That would be more valuable to hold in reserve until later...if it was needed.

"We're going to stick out there," he said.

"Maybe we could use that to our advantage," Ziva said. "Tim and Carew would have stuck out as well. Perhaps, we could find a place where they were and people would notice us."

Gibbs noticed that Ziva had deliberately not mentioned Ray.

"That would be in Sana'a itself, not the outskirts. Tim mentioned being on the move. That wouldn't be as important in the city. They clearly weren't staying where they started."

"Of course, we are only assuming that they started in Sana'a."

"It's probably a safe assumption," Tony said. "Sure, they could have used Aden or one of the other cities with an airport, but Sana'a's the biggest city, right?"

"Yes."

"By a lot, I'm assuming."

"Yes."

"If they wanted to go someplace where they _wouldn't_ be obvious, that would be the best best, even if someone _did_ notice that they were there. It wouldn't be as much of a reason to talk about it to others."

"We're going to Sana'a, regardless," Gibbs said. "Let's just be ready to move if it's necessary."

Tony nodded in agreement and they resumed discussing the possibilities. Donovan said nothing to them on the entire flight.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim woke up with a start. He wasn't sure what had awakened him, at first, but then, he saw Suhayl moving around in the predawn darkness. It was time to get moving, time to start this. Tim sat up and followed Suhayl's silent example. He grabbed some food from his pack and ate it quickly. They would need to have the energy, but this wasn't a time for lingering.

Carew sat up as well and also was silent as he gathered up his bed roll and stowed it by a rock. Suhayl began to distribute the explosives and the weapons. Tim knew they were going in, willing to use force if necessary, but hoping that they only needed to kill one man.

"We are about one kilometer from the entrance," Suhayl said. "I have not been inside the installation. I cannot tell you where to go when we get there."

"Trial and error," Carew said. "Can't be helped. If there a chance of avoiding gun play, do it, but if someone has to die, they have to die. Just make sure it isn't you."

Tim said nothing. He wasn't in charge. He was just the assistant, but he mentally added that they were getting Bri out if she was alive. Nothing would change that.

They started toward the hidden entrance Suhayl had found. They didn't speak. If the smartdust _was_ being used, there was little they could to avoid detection, but audio would be easier to capture via dust than visual. They could only hope that they would have the chance to take the installation by surprise.

Suhayl gestured for them to stop. He strode ahead, out of sight, for a few seconds. Then, he was back, beckoning for them to come. Tim and Carew joined him and Tim saw a camera which had been disabled. For the moment, they were safe enough. He looked at the entrance Suhayl had found.

It was a circular metal lid leading to an access shaft. Tim looked at it and he had a moment of pure panic. He couldn't keep himself from inhaling deeply. Carew and Suhayl both looked at him in surprise. It took him a second, but he got control of himself again. It was too much like when he'd been trying to get out of the underground base a few years ago, but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath and then let it out, very slowly and silently. He opened his eyes and nodded. Suhayl raised an eyebrow. Tim nodded again and gestured for him to go on.

Suhayl and Carew knelt down by the entrance and got the access to open.

No alarms. Tim wasn't sure he liked this. Could they really be lucking out like that? It wasn't his experience that things went right. ...but then, maybe they'd already had enough go wrong that they were getting things to go right now.

...but Tim doubted it was that simple.

Still, they climbed into the access shaft. It wasn't nearly as far down as Lawrence's base had been, for which Tim was thankful. Still, he had the feeling of climbing into a tomb and it didn't help his uneasiness.

Once they got to the bottom, they took stock of their surroundings. They appeared to be in a storage room of some sort.

And it was dusty in there.

Still, they said nothing, hoping that they could elude the smartdust as much as possible.

Then, it was time to get to the door. This was the first real risk they were taking. There was no way of knowing what was on the other side of the door. This could be a trap about to spring and they wouldn't know until they stepped into it.

Carew walked to the door, hesitated for a moment and then swung it open in one quick motion. It didn't even creak. Not a bit. It was silent out in the hallway. The hallway curved away from them in both directions. There were no signs indicating which way to go. Carew looked both ways. Then, to Tim's surprise, he started pointing his finger both ways, his lips moving silently. Was he really choosing their direction using eeny, meeny, miny, moe?

It seemed as if he was. He finished and pointed to the left.

There seemed to be no other recourse but to follow. They started down the hallway, walking silently, guns at the ready, hoping that they wouldn't be needed.

There was dust in the air.

They walked carefully through the hall and found two doors. These were actually labeled as Lab 1 and Lab 2 in both English and Arabic.

Tim thought that was probably a good place to start whether Higgins was in there or not. Carew seemed to think the same. He walked to the first door and tried it. It opened, but the room was empty. Some apparatus, but nothing more.

Carew closed the door and tried the next one.

It was not empty.

"I wondered how long it would take you. I heard you were coming. After all, the dust is in the air. Isn't it."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Carew lifted his gun and pointed it at the man sitting at a computer. He was the only one in the room. He was older than Tim might have expected, although after thirty years, if this was Higgins, he supposed that it made sense that he would be older. The man was balding, skinny, short and looked eminently harmless. Not the kind of man you would think of as being a willing traitor to his country. Tim waited to see what needed to come next. Suhayl closed the door behind them and locked it. He said nothing. Instead, he took up a guard position at the door. No one would be going in or out until he said so. Tim turned back to the man, keeping his gun ready and looking around at the setup in the room. There was clearly a lot of energy being used to power all this equipment. It was top-of-the-line.

...and yet, there was dust all over the room.

Carew smiled.

"You're looking well, Dr. Higgins."

"As are you. Should I call you Director, now? I heard about your promotions. You've come a long way since being on my protection detail. It's been thirty years. At least."

"About that, yes."

Higgins made no sudden moves, but he was obviously evaluating the situation, deciding what the best course would be. He glanced at Suhayl and then, his gaze lingered on Tim.

"Ah, and Agent McGee. I've heard about you," Higgins said. "You're not at all like what I expected. The way people have talked about you, you would have thought that you were ten feet tall and permanently interfaced with the Internet. After all that talk, you're just a man like anyone else. I'm almost disappointed."

Tim shrugged and said nothing. This wasn't his show. Higgins turned back to Carew.

"So what's the plan?" Higgins asked.

"Killing you is high on my list," Carew said.

"I'm sure it is. You always did have an interesting view on the world, but there's no reason to do that," Higgins said, his tone calm and even.

"Why not? You ran, didn't you? I don't see any chains."

"Yes. Better offer, you see. Look and all this I got." He waved his hands around. "It wasn't personal."

"Oh, I'm sure it wasn't to you, but you'll understand if there are other people who feel differently."

Higgins smirked. Tim was actually reminded a little bit of Bill Joyce, only there was something a little chilling in how calm Higgins was. Bill had been a little more frenetic. Higgins was confident that he could get out of this and that made Tim nervous.

"Oh, they're just mad that they didn't anticipate soon enough."

"I'm sure there's a bit of ego involved, but it's more than that. You do happen to be working against us, now. That's not something that tends to go over well."

"Yes, but I can be extremely useful. I still have a head start. I haven't lost any ground over the years. And there's so much more to what I've been doing. We just got the dust working a couple of weeks ago, but why stop there?"

Carew raised an eyebrow. The gun was still aimed at Higgins. He hadn't relented at all. Tim was just waiting for him to pull the trigger. He couldn't imagine Carew changing his mind about killing Higgins, but he knew that Carew would change his mind if he thought it was worth doing.

"You think that this place is usually so empty?" Higgins asked. "It's not. I had it basically emptied so that you could get in easily. This place has the best surveillance. I'll bet it's better than the White House. I knew you were coming hours ago. I knew it was possible days ago."

Still, no response from Carew. And Higgins kept right on talking.

"I told you there was more, and you would not believe how much more there is. I mean, it's about surveillance, of course. That's always been what it was, but I found something else. You know that what I can give would mean that I'd be taken back, no matter what. All's forgiven if I share and I'm ready to share."

"Yes, I know that," Carew said.

Then, he lifted the gun slightly and pulled the trigger, shooting Higgins in the head. He jerked back and then fell to the floor.

Dead.

The dust swirled around in the room from the disturbances caused by Higgins' body falling.

"Okay," Carew said, "Tim, you get to the computer, see what you can pull off it. If there is any way of taking it with us, we will. If not, we'll simply destroy it."

Tim nodded but was unable to keep his eyes from wandering to Higgins' body on the floor.

"He was probably right, you know," Tim said. "Look at what people were willing to do to me. They would have taken him back if he was willing to tell what he knew."

"I know that...which is another reason why it had to be me taking care of this problem," Carew said. "Men like him have forfeited that opportunity. He was being paid well thirty years ago. If he had no loyalty then, he wouldn't have any loyalty now, and I see no reason to reward him for that. He wouldn't get what he deserved. Now, he has." Carew nudged the body out of the way so that Tim could sit. "Have at it."

Tim sat and started looking through the files on the computer. There was a _lot_ there.

"How did he know who I was?"

"These things get around. I'm not surprised."

"I am. How widely am I known?"

"More widely than you want, but not as widely as you could be. As people are forced to accept your uselessness, that will change, but that's why you're being well-protected."

Tim grimaced but couldn't disagree with that. He tried to ignore the blood spatter on the monitor as he made his search. It wasn't as though he hadn't seen stuff like this even just in his work with NCIS, but there was something about witnessing this kind of execution. Carew had let Higgins talk and then had killed him. Even though Tim had know it was coming, it was still a little bit of a shock to witness.

What he found on the computer was basically the worst possibility.

"Levi," he said and gestured for him to come over.

Carew looked at the screen.

"They've started making plans to weaponize it. No real schematics yet, nothing that would function, but the ideas are there."

"We knew that was a possibility," he said, sounding unconcerned.

However, he turned to Suhayl.

"It's time to start placing the charges."

Suhayl nodded silently and began working quickly and efficiently. Tim found an external hard drive and began downloading the programs. There was a part of him that wanted to destroy them and have that be the end of it, but he knew that Carew had been right before. Once one person had done it, so would others. There was no stopping the information once it was out there, but they could try to get a step ahead in order to avoid being caught with their pants down. So, this time, he did what Carew wanted him to do. No viruses to eat the program this time.

"How long do you want me to do this?" Tim asked.

"As long as possible," Carew said.

Tim nodded and turned back to the computer. There was no way they'd get everything. It was simply impossible with how much data was there, but he could get the essentials and then whatever more there was time for.

Five of the longest, most silent minutes passed as Tim waited for the download. Then, Carew was beside him again.

"Time's up. Take what you have. It'll be more than we've got."

Tim nodded and stopped the download. He quickly stowed the drive in his pack and followed Carew and Suhayl. They went into the other lab and set more charges. Then, they set some more in the hallway on their way back to their exit.

Tim stopped.

"We're not leaving without seeing if Bri is here," he said.

"We don't have time. The charges are set to go off in fifteen minutes."

"I don't care. We'll make the time. You chose left before. Now, we're going right."

He started walking, not bothering to see if Carew followed or not. He heard Suhayl's nearly-silent tread and suppressed a smile. He had one person who agreed with him...and, in reality, he knew he had two. It was just that Carew wouldn't do it himself.

There were a couple of doors that led to empty rooms. Then, there was a door that was locked. Tim looked at Suhayl and raised an eyebrow. Suhayl gestured silently.

Tim pulled his gun and fired at the doorlock. Then, he let Suhayl kick it open.

Inside was a disgusting smell, a table, and a single person in the corner. He hurried over and knelt down beside her.

"Bri?" he said softly.

The woman groaned. That was all. Tim moved her matted hair out of her face and saw that it was, indeed, Bri. She had seen better days and seemed barely conscious. She was also chained to the wall.

"We're running out of time," Carew said from behind him.

"She's alive. I'm not leaving her here. If you want to get out, go right ahead," Tim said.

"She looks much as you did," Suhayl said, softly.

Then, he walked to her, knelt down and checked the lock on her chains. He looked around the room and found a large metal wedge. Tim decided he didn't want to know why it was there or how it had been used.

However it had been used before, Suhayl used it to break the lock from the chain. Then, with the chains still on her, he picked Bri up and carried her out of the room.

Carew, typically, said nothing. He just strode back to their exit. Suhayl shift his grip on Bri so that he could also climb up the ladder. Tim climbed below him, just in case. Carew was in the lead to make sure their path was clear once they got outside.

Carew got to the top, opened the entrance and began to climb out.

Then, there was the sound of gunfire. Carew let out a sudden cry of pain, but there was also the sound of returning gunfire. If Carew had been hit, he hadn't let that stop him. Suhayl glanced down at Tim once and then resumed his climb. They couldn't stay here, not with the charges set to go off in ten minutes.

Tim hurried up behind him. Suhayl reached the top and then, carefully, passed Bri down.

"I will tell you when to come out," he said.

Tim nodded, hating that he was the one who would be least in danger but knowing that he couldn't very well get up ahead of Suhayl without putting them all in more danger. So he waited, holding onto Bri with one arm and the ladder with the other. He couldn't see anything. All he could do was wait.

Suddenly, Bri seemed to wake up. She spasmed slightly, and Tim almost dropped her.

"Hold still," he said. "You won't survive the fall."

"Wha–?"

"You're on your way out, Bri. Just stay still. If you can manage it, hold onto me and I'll be less likely to drop you."

There was no verbal response, but, slowly, Bri wound her arms around Tim's neck, holding on more tightly than Tim would have expected her to be able to do. He felt better about being able to hold her up.

Suhayl suddenly gestured.

"Keep down but come out," he said.

Tim began to climb again. He pushed Bri out onto the ground, figuring that she would stay down by default. He pulled himself out and stayed down until he could ascertain where the bullets were coming from. Then, he stationed himself over Bri and joined Suhayl and Carew in firing back. He noticed that Carew's leg was bleeding. Right now, however, they had to get rid of the attackers.

Tim finally figured out where the most persistent attack was coming from. He shifted his aim and waited. For once, he felt no ambivalence. It was one thing when the person getting killed wasn't prepared for it. It was something different altogether when it was an actual fight. There was a flash of movement. Still, he waited. That wasn't enough for a real target. Then, there it was.

Tim didn't wait any longer. He fired and the man fell to the ground.

"How much time do we have?" he asked.

"Five minutes," Carew said.

Tim decided right then and there that he was _not_ going down like this. They had done what they came to do. He wasn't going to die after they'd succeeded. No way. He looked at Suhayl who looked back.

"Can you get around them?" Tim asked in a low voice.

"Yes."

Then, Suhayl left, creeping away from Tim and Carew, moving around a rock formation. Tim reloaded, aimed and let off a succession of shots, designed to distract, not to hit. If he _did_ hit, all the better, but regardless, he wanted them focused on him, not on Suhayl.

Suddenly, Suhayl jumped from nowhere, it seemed. He had a knife out and cut the man's throat.

The gunfire stopped.

They didn't have time to be cautious. Underground or not, the resulting explosions would create a shock wave that could easily kill them if they didn't get far enough away. Suhayl ran back and picked up Bri. Tim looked Carew's bleeding leg. Carew quickly tied a rag around it, but it was clear that he wouldn't be running. Tim took a breath, holstered his gun and grabbed Carew, pulling him upright.

Then, they started off. They had to get as far as away as they could before the explosion.

Carew was moving faster than Tim thought he could have, but he was also leaning pretty heavily on Tim. It was a good thing they were only going a kilometer. He wasn't sure he could manage more than that so soon after the last time he'd had to haul Carew around.

"Will we make it?" he said softly.

"Maybe. Maybe not," Carew said. "It's the risk you take every time you go out. That's always part of the game."

"Maybe for you," Tim said. "Not for me. It's not a game."

"And that," Carew said, "is the biggest difference between us."

Tim didn't bother to respond. He just kept moving as quickly as he could.

Then, they felt the rumble. It came closer and closer to them.

_Keep running,_ Tim thought to himself.

Then, the shock wave hit and they were all flung forward to the hard, hot, baked ground.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Breathing heavily, Tim rolled over onto his back and stared at the cloudless sky.

"We made it," he said.

"So far."

Tim sat up and felt the ache, but he would take aches and pains over death. Suhayl was sitting up as well. Bri seemed to be unconscious, and Carew, while conscious looked a little out of it.

"We have a kilometer to go to get back to the truck. Can you make it?"

It was a genuine question, but Tim already knew what the answer had to be.

"Yes. I don't know if I can make it further than that, but I can make it that far."

Suhayl nodded.

"Then, we should move, now. There is no way to know if we got them all or if they will know to look for us. This smartdust?"

"I don't know how far it would be spread. From what I know, they've only been using it for a couple of weeks, but even at the nano level, these are machines. Heat and pressure will affect them. I think that we should be safe from that for now."

Suhayl nodded. "I will accept your thought. I know nothing of these things."

"I don't know a lot."

Suhayl smiled slightly. "You know more than I."

Tim smiled in return. Suhayl dug into his pack and pulled out some water. He forced Bri to drink some while Tim got his own canteen out and took a drink. He didn't want to drink too much. Water was a precious commodity out here. Hard to replace. Then, he shook Carew.

"Levi. We have to keep moving."

Carew opened his eyes and nodded. Tim gave him some water and then put away the canteen. Then, he stood, wobbled a little bit and held out his hand. Carew took it and Tim pulled him up. Then, he shifted to support Carew.

Suhayl picked up Bri once more and they started moving again, more slowly this time. It seemed to take forever to cover the single kilometer, but Tim could acknowledge that it was mostly because of his feet. They were aching more and more with every step. The extra weight Carew had to put on them, in addition to the running he'd done, was pushing him beyond his limits.

Tim held back the wince from the pain, but he was much more tense than he had been at the beginning.

"And this...is another difference," Carew said, softly.

"What's that?"

"I wouldn't hesitate to leave you behind."

Tim smiled wearily. "Only if you decided it was absolutely necessary, and then, you wouldn't feel any guilt. It's not absolutely necessary, even if it would be more convenient, and I'd feel guilty for doing it, even if it was. I have enough guilt. You're not worth adding more."

Carew laughed and stumbled, almost taking Tim down with him, but Tim managed to stay upright.

Finally, the truck was in view. Suhayl set Bri down on the ground before they reached it.

"Stay here. I will check to make sure it was not discovered."

Tim nodded and let Carew down to the ground. He stayed standing, knowing that he wouldn't be able to make himself get up again.

Suhayl ran to the truck and Tim could see him walking all around it, checking it out, including lifting the hood and looking beneath it. Then, he got in the cab and started it up. No explosion, just the loud engine. Perfect.

He ran back.

"It looks safe. We should not go back today. We will drive elsewhere tonight and sleep in the desert. I do not want to lead anyone following us to my people. Then, tomorrow, we can decide where to go next."

Tim nodded, too tired to complain about anything, really. He helped Carew up and they made their way back to the truck. They got in and put more distance between themselves and the installation they'd destroyed.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The sun was just setting when they finally touched down in Sana'a.

"That's a lot bigger than I expected," Tony said as he peered out the window. "Actually, I don't know if I had any thought about the size of Sana'a before now."

Ziva smiled.

"It is a large city, but I have not ever been here, either. My work was...elsewhere."

"Yeah."

Agent Donovan walked back to them.

"Given the hour, I don't think you'll want to start looking around the city tonight. Some areas are safer than others and since none of you are familiar with Sana'a, it would be better to wait until tomorrow."

Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Do _you_ know Sana'a?"

"Yes," Donovan said.

Tony glanced at Ziva and Gibbs, asking a silent question.

"Are you authorized to be in the country?" Gibbs asked.

Donovan raised an eyebrow.

"Are you asking me for assistance?"

"Only if it comes without strings attached," Tony said. "We've already seen what can happen when people make deals with the CIA."

"In case you weren't aware, Agent DiNozzo, a number of CIA agents died protecting this man you're here to find," Donovan said, showing emotion for the first time. "People put their lives on the line every day and all that ever gets talked about is how corrupt, how horrible and how wrong the CIA is. Well, the U.S. would be a lot worse off if you took away all the lives that have been laid down without any expectation of gratitude or even acknowledgment. If you don't like what the CIA has to offer, then, you're welcome to find your own way back to the U.S."

Tony felt a little chagrined. He remembered what Dr. Hicks had said about this trip being a test, but at the same time, he was determined to get help only if it was being offered, not if it was being traded.

Instead of retorting, he just waited. Then, he looked at Ziva who was waiting as well.

"We are not begging for assistance, and we are not desperate, but we have seen, first hand, what can happen to those who are," Ziva said. "If you are not like that, fine. We have met others in the CIA who are not, but we have had more negative experiences than positive ones to this point and are justified in being wary."

There was a moment of silence and then, Donovan raised his eyebrow again.

"Are you asking me for assistance?" he repeated.

"Maybe," Tony said.

"Then, _maybe_, I can help. Tomorrow. While it's not the most comfortable, it would be safest to stay on the plane for tonight."

Then, he walked back to the cockpit.

Tony took a breath and looked at the others.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Gibbs looked around the plane that they'd already been on for much too long. He shrugged.

"I've slept in worse places."

Then, he walked over to one of the seats and reclined it as far as it would go, sat down and closed his eyes.

Tony looked at him and then at Ziva.

"I guess that's the best thing to do right now," he said.

"If we can sleep," Ziva said.

"Yeah. If."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The truck clattered to a merciful halt.

"We will stop here for the night," Suhayl said.

Tim nodded and relaxed from bracing both himself and Bri from bouncing around the cab. After hours of driving, Tim was ready to never move again, even if he knew he would have to. Bri slumped down on the seat as Suhayl got out of the truck. He reached up and pulled her out and then lay her gently on the ground. Carew slid to the other door and grimaced as he got out of the truck himself. He limped to where Bri lay and sat down without speaking. They had done their best to stop the bleeding, but he had still lost a lot and there was no exit wound. The bullet was still in his leg.

"We should eat, first. Then, you should sleep. In the morning, we will go."

Tim didn't bother to point out that Suhayl hadn't said anything about _where_. He got out of the truck himself and felt his feet aching, but he walked over to the others, dragging both his pack and Carew's while Suhayl got out blankets in preparation for sleep.

Bri had barely reacted to anything around her, and Tim didn't blame her one bit. The only reason he had been able to do anything was because it had been required. Otherwise, he would have let himself drift along, doing nothing.

Carew managed a smile that was only a shadow of his usual smirk and reached out for his pack. He checked his wound and tied another strip around it. Then, he got out food and water. Tim and Suhayl did the same. Suhayl fed Bri. It was only milk, but Tim figured it must be better than nothing. Bri accepted it without saying anything and then lay where she was and let Suhayl cover her with a blanket. She looked at him and then over at Tim and Carew. She sighed and her eyes closed.

"We can get moving again in the morning," Carew said, softly.

"Fine by me," Tim said.

"Good." Then, he took a blanket from Suhayl and lay down. He seemed to fall asleep as quickly as Bri had.

Tim was tired, too, but his feet were throbbing and his mind was still going at a thousand miles an hour. He didn't think he'd be sleeping any time soon.

"How are you feeling?" Suhayl asked.

"My feet hurt, and that probably won't change for the next couple of days. By tomorrow, I'll be able to walk around fairly easily, but... no running. I don't know if I even could."

Suhayl smiled. "If it was necessary, you could."

Tim smiled back. "You're probably right."

"So...what will we do tomorrow?"

"I don't know. I'm not the one in charge."

"You are the only one who is in good condition. I am not directly involved. I will go back to my family. You are the one qualified to say what is needed."

"I don't know about that, but we need to get back Sana'a...and hopefully, get back to the U.S."

"How will you do that?"

Tim looked at Carew. He didn't look very good. It had been a bad injury, and they weren't in the best situation. As little as he liked Carew, he didn't want to have his life depending on him. He leaned forward and rubbed his hand over his face, feeling the grit and abrasions.

"Levi said that there should be an easy way for my team to find out where we were. I don't know if he's right, although he often is. He's pretty good at planning ahead. If that's the case, then, maybe we could get to Ray's place and work outward from there."

"Ray?"

Tim felt a twist of worry.

"He was working in Sana'a...discreetly, I think. He drove us out of Sana'a and...and he got caught in an explosion when Levi and I were captured. I don't know if he survived. He was a CIA agent, but he killed a woman who had been helping him track down a target. It wasn't something he'd planned, and it's given him a lot of guilt, but it happened and..."

"And you see yourself."

"A little bit, yeah. I was hoping that he could find a way out of that place...like I did."

"Perhaps death _is _his way out."

Tim shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know if that's ever the only way out, but...but I don't know. He had a base in Sana'a. We stayed there for a few days before heading out. If we got there, we might be able to find help."

"What about a hospital? Both need medical care. There are hospitals in Sana'a."

Tim shook his head. "Levi is supposed to be recovering from a serious car accident back in the U.S. If anyone found out that he was here... and the whole operation is completely off the books. No one is ever to know about this. Not ever. No credit. No blame. Nothing. That's why I'm doing this and not a regular CIA team. I know you're right, but..."

Tim sighed. He hated that he couldn't just turn this over to someone else to decide.

Suhayl was quiet for a long moment.

"You are not asking."

Tim shook his head and looked away, knowing what Suhayl meant.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to pull anyone into this world I have to be in. I hate it for myself. I don't want to force anyone else into it. If I could get out, I would."

"You are not pulling me anywhere. Do you think that I am unable to make my own choices? Do you think that I did not know what I chose when I started the work I do? I am very well acquainted with this other world you speak of. When I tire of it, I go home."

Tim looked at him in surprise.

"You do not force me," Suhayl said, "but you still need to ask. I am glad to see you so well as you are, but there are more lessons for you to learn about this life. One is that asking for help does not force anyone to do anything."

"But people will still force themselves to do things to help...and once you go there, you can't go back."

"Luckily for you, I am already there."

"Why did you choose that?" Tim asked. "I can tell that you must have some impressive connections because of what you do, what you've done already, but you seem content when you're with your family."

"I was educated in the West. I have seen how big the world is, and I have learned that it is impossible to be isolated from that world. If that is the case, then, it is better that I am involved in whatever impacts where I am. You call them terrorists or extremists, and they are few in number in comparison to how many of us live here, but too many accuse us of being the same or of being equally guilty simply because we have not put ourselves in the firing line. I wish that I could speak to those who kill and tell them that they do nothing to make life better for us. They make it worse. They tarnish us and they tarnish Islam. What they do is not what the Prophet, peace be upon him, would tell them to do. When they shoot someone who does not agree with them, they are also shooting themselves and the rest of us, too. If I can fight against those people and stop them from making my life worse, then, I will do that. ...and perhaps, before I die, I will see a world where that is not necessary, and I can be with my family all the time. ...but I doubt it."

Tim nodded.

"Now. Ask."

"Suhayl...is there any way that Levi and Bri could be treated in a hospital without anyone knowing who they are?"

"Yes."

"Will you help us, then?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

"You are welcome. Now. Sleep. Morning will come soon enough."

Tim nodded and wrapped himself in the blanket Suhayl gave him. It surprised him that it could actually get cool enough that a blanket was useful. Before he drifted off to sleep, though, he stared up at the clear night sky.

"It's so beautiful," he said softly. "The sky out here."

"Yes."

Suddenly, Tim thought of a poem. It was one he hadn't really thought of in years, but it was fitting. He whispered the final lines into the night.

"'Though my soul may set in darkness  
It will rise in perfect light.  
I have loved the stars too fondly  
To be fearful of the night.'"

"What is that?"

"A poem by a woman named Sarah Williams from the nineteenth century. It's called 'The Old Astronomer.'"

"I have never heard that poem before."

"Do you read a lot of poetry?"

"Yes, when I was younger. Every culture has its poetry. You can learn much by reading it."

"Oh. I just like it."

"As do I. When I return to my family, I will look up that poem."

Tim smiled.

Then, he fell asleep.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

"Do not move, Tim."

That was not the best sentence to bring him out of sleep, Tim decided, but he trusted Suhayl and he stayed still.

"Good. Do not move for a moment more."

He felt some movement around him and then, a weight that he hadn't really noticed was suddenly lifted off him. It hadn't been a big weight, but still...what had that thing been? What had been on him? He remembered all those pictures that had been passed around of supposedly gigantic spiders when the military had first come out here. Could they be real? He started to sweat.

"You may move, now."

Tim opened his eyes and sat up quickly. He caught a glimpse of a number of small lizards running off.

"What was that?"

Suhayl had a definite twinkle in his eyes, although he remained mostly solemn.

"Apparently, you were a perfect nest for the lizards. They were sleeping on you. They will not hurt you, but I was not sure if you would appreciate them."

"I might have let out an undignified yell," Tim said.

"I thought it was a possibility."

Tim looked at Bri and Carew, who were both still asleep.

"They are alive, but we should go sooner, not later."

Tim nodded. He reached over and nudged Carew.

"Levi, it's morning."

Carew sat up and paled as he moved his leg. He said nothing. Tim could see that he was gritting his teeth so that he didn't express his pain.

"We're going to Sana'a," Tim said. "And Suhayl is going to take you and Bri to a hospital there."

"Not happening," Carew said.

"It _is_ happening. No one will know who you are."

"Are you sure of that?"

"As sure as I can be," Suhayl said. "The only thing that I am more sure of is that you both need medical care before flying back to the U.S. It is clear that trying to do otherwise would be foolish."

"It's too dangerous. Too much risk," Carew said.

"No, it's not. Suhayl kept my identity concealed in Riyadh last year," Tim said. "He took care of everything, although I didn't realize what he was doing at the time. You got shot, Levi. Who knows what they did to Bri." Tim took a breath. "You are not in charge, right now. You've been injured and that requires medical treatment, at least a little bit. That's what's happening. Suhayl is going to drive us back to Sana'a...to a hospital. And I'll see if you were right and my team is there looking for us. We'll be there as briefly as possible, but we're going there."

Carew raised an eyebrow at him but didn't argue. Maybe he was in too much pain; maybe he recognized that Tim was right. Regardless, he simply got out his food and ate without comment.

Tim flexed his feet experimentally and judged that he'd be able to get up and not embarrass himself after that declaration. He limped a little, but he was able to walk around to the other side of the truck and lean against it. He stared out at the sand and rock for a few minutes, wanting nothing more than to get back to the place that made sense to him.

...so that he could get out of the place that was _starting_ to make sense. It was getting far too easy to be here, to make his way through the morass. He was afraid that he would end up living in this world and not even notice.

Suhayl walked around the truck.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing. I just want this to be over."

"It will be. I gave Bri as much as she could tolerate right now. It is time to leave."

Tim nodded and walked back around the truck. Suhayl easily picked up Bri. Tim helped Carew stand and limp to the truck. Once they were all back in, Suhayl started the engine and it was another clattering, bouncing ride, south toward Sana'a.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Jenny was sitting in her office, worrying. She didn't let herself worry very often because too much worrying invariably led to revealing things she didn't want to reveal. However, right now, not only had Tim been out of communication for more than a week, but also, she hadn't heard anything from Gibbs and the rest of the MCRT since their precipitous departure.

It was enough to make her worry. The one thing that kept the worry from escalating was how much Tim had improved in the last year. He had been ready for this. It was just that being ready didn't necessarily equal survival.

She got up from her desk and walked out of the office. Cynthia was at work, as usual, but she looked up at Jenny's approach. Jenny didn't ask anything out loud. She just widened her eyes a little. Cynthia shook her head. A nod and then back to her office.

No contact, still. She had no doubt that, restrictions or not, Tim would find a way to make contact if he could and if it were safe to do so.

So was he unable to or was it that it wasn't safe? ...or was he dead? Jenny knew, from personal experience, that there would be no notifications if Tim died during this operation. It wasn't really happening. So no one would know. She'd make sure his family knew if it came down to that, but still...

A sigh. Over and over, Tim had been pulled away from them. He'd always made it back, but how many times could they expect that good fortune to continue?

Her phone buzzed.

"_Director Shephard, there's a request for a meeting in MTAC. FBI."_

Jenny grimaced.

"I'll be right in, Cynthia. Thank you."

Back to work.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

They got to Sana'a near noon.

"Dhuhr will begin soon," Suhayl said.

Tim looked at him blankly.

"The noon prayer."

"Oh. Sorry. Will you miss it?"

"If I cannot make it, I feel God will understand. No apology is necessary. It is not a good time to be driving through Sana'a. We will need to get to the hospital before it."

"Can we?"

"Yes."

Suhayl increased the speed and the bumping also increased. Carew said nothing, as had become the norm, but it was clear that he was hurting. Bri was still barely conscious and Tim was holding her to keep her from bouncing around.

Finally, he pulled onto a real road and the bumping and clattering decreased dramatically. There was a lot of traffic, but they were now just one truck amid hundreds of other vehicles. No reason they would stand out.

Tim had no idea where they were in the city. He figured Suhayl knew where he was going, and he had no intention of asking. He knew that Suhayl sometimes took offense at implications of insult, although he understood Western conventions, even if he didn't live them.

Suddenly, they veered off the road and into a parking lot. It wasn't the main entrance. Even without being able to read Arabic, Tim could tell that. The building itself was large and modern-looking, but they were at a service entrance, it seemed. Suhayl turned off the truck and looked at Tim and Carew.

"Do not leave the truck with anyone except me. If someone comes to talk to you without me, I have not sent them. Do not leave the truck. If the worst happens, start the truck and drive. Do you understand?"

Tim nodded.

"How risky is this?"

"Not very, but there is always a chance. It is better to be ready for that."

Then, Suhayl got out of the truck and walked inside the building.

"Still think this is a good idea?" Carew asked.

"Yes."

"Even if the worst happens?"

"Ask me again if it does," Tim said curtly.

"We shouldn't stay here..." Bri whispered. "Not safe."

She stirred against him, but she was still very weak. Tim couldn't help but compare this broken woman to the one who had been so willing to break him down before.

"We're as safe here as we would be anywhere in this country. I trust Suhayl. If something goes wrong, he'll help...if he can. If not..."

"Yes, if not?" Carew asked.

"If not, then, we'll get out of here."

Bri didn't speak again. She was slumped against him, and he wondered if she was thinking clearly enough to realize who was holding her. Actually, he wondered if she even realized that her father was in the truck, too. At this point, however, he wasn't going to bring any of that up. Carew's face was pale, and Tim could see that he needed medical attention. He wasn't going to forgo getting what was needed when they had a good chance of it.

The door opened and a man came out who was _not_ Suhayl. Tim tensed and then relaxed when Suhayl came behind him. They walked over to the truck, speaking to each other in Arabic. Suhayl was clearly the one in charge.

"We will bring you inside," Suhayl said. "You will be in a private part of the hospital where none will see you except the doctors. They have promised to do what they can as quickly as they can so that you will be able to leave. There have been some changes in the last while that make it better to be fast. I will take her." He pointed to Bri. "Yasser will help you." He gestured to Carew. "Come."

Carew made no comment about his issues with the safety of the situation. He also didn't complain about his pain. However, he did lean heavily on Yasser. Tim slid out of the truck and limped along behind. As they walked through the hall, Tim noticed that they were about to be separated.

"Suhayl," he said, in a low voice.

Suhayl paused.

"What is it?"

"Can't they be in the same room?"

"A man and a woman?"

"A father and his daughter," Tim said.

Suhayl raised his eyebrow. Tim wasn't sure whether or not Carew or Bri cared about this, but just from a logical perspective, it made more sense to keep them all together, if possible. It would be easier to make sure things didn't go badly.

Tim didn't say anything more. He just waited to see what Suhayl said. If this was really not acceptable, he wouldn't push.

Suhayl didn't say anything to Tim, but he spoke to Yasser in a low voice, not that it mattered to Tim. He couldn't have understood it even if they'd shouted their conversation. At the end of the conversation, Yasser nodded and gestured to a room. Suhayl looked back at Tim.

"You will have to be separate to sleep, but these two will be together in a room."

"Me? I...I don't need a room. I'm fine."

"Except that you are limping."

"It'll be okay."

"Yes, it will. Because you will let the doctor see."

Tim smiled and capitulated.

"Okay. But I'll still need to see if I can find..."

Suhayl shook his head briefly, and Tim took the warning. He stopped.

"Wait out here for a moment."

He carried Bri into a room. Yasser helped Carew in behind him.

Tim stood out in the hall, wishing he was sitting down. Suhayl came back out alone.

"You will be here in this room, just across the hall. Very close to each other...but it would not be proper for you to be in a room with a woman."

"I understand."

"Good. Come."

Suhayl gestured and Tim started to walk. He was surprised when Suhayl put an arm around his waist and almost lifted him off the ground. They were really about the same height, but while Tim knew he was in pretty good shape, there was a strength to Suhayl that was not obvious. Tim would hate to have to fight him for any reason. Suhayl hurried Tim into the room and helped him sit.

"The doctor will look at them, first. They are in most need."

"I agree."

Suhayl waved that away. Apparently, that wasn't the important thing.

"I have used connections to make this place secret for you. This does not mean that it is completely safe. I cannot guarantee that others may not be watching for something like this. You will all stay here tonight. Rest. I will be watching. Tomorrow, you and I will go to look for your friends, to see if they are here. This will be a dangerous time."

"Will it be safe to leave Levi and Bri here, alone?"

"Yasser will watch them."

"Who is he?"

Suhayl smiled. "He is bedouin. One who left the desert but has realized that the desert has not left him. He will guard them with his life if it is needed."

Tim nodded. "Okay."

"I have people I can talk to and see if there is any way of finding if your friends are here. We must be careful. Just as there are people in your country who hate any Arab they see simply because that is what he is, there are people in this country who hate any American they see, just because he is American. You are too white to hide as a Yemeni. You could never pass as someone who belongs here. There is no way to know who will hate and who will not."

"Yeah, I'm sure. There are people like that everywhere."

"Yes. It is true."

Tim settled back on the bed and realized how tired he was. All the bouncing around and trying to make sure Bri wasn't jostled too much had taken more effort than he realized.

"Would it be allowed to go in and see how Levi and Bri are doing?"

"I will tell you when it will be allowed, but, yes. That will be possible."

"I'm sorry I don't know all the rules."

"There is no reason that you should. You have not yet caused grave offense."

Tim laughed a little and then, sighed.

"I just want to get home and know that this is over. As long as we're here, there's still some danger."

"Yes, there is. Less than the last time you were here."

"Thankfully."

"Yes. For now, you should rest. I can see that you are tired. There is no shame in that. It will be hours before the doctor is ready to let them be seen."

Tim nodded and leaned back. He could feel that tiredness, and even if this was only a hospital bed, it was still more of a bed than he'd had since leaving the U.S. The closest thing to a real bed had been with the bedouin and that had only been for two short nights.

His eyes closed and he slept.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Where do you want to start?" Donovan asked.

"We're open for suggestions," Tony said.

Donovan raised an eloquent eyebrow. He may not be as stern or stoic as Gibbs, but he was nearly Gibbs' equal in mute communication.

"We know that he was here with...two other men," Ziva said, hesitating over mentioning Ray, who was supposed to be dead, and Carew, who was supposed to be in a hospital back in the States. "Neither were Yemeni."

"Three Americans? Probably not wanting any attention?"

"Very likely," Gibbs said.

"Then, I know some places they _wouldn't_ be, but, really, the safest place for Americans in Yemen is pretty much anywhere that _isn't_ Sana'a. The city is where people gather for protests. It's where the problems happen. It's where the revolts happen. Once you get out of the city, people pretty much don't care."

"I don't think they're here now. We're trying to find out where they _were_; so that we can track down where they _went_."

Donovan nodded.

"Give me some time to check things out before you all start wandering around the city. We don't need to add to the problem."

Tony didn't like that, but he had to admit that Donovan's darker complexion would fit in better than he would.

"I'll see if I can find anything and come back."

Before there could be any more discussion, he slipped off the plane, leaving the others behind.

"I feel like we're not doing anything," Tony grumbled. "I don't like letting other people do my job."

"We got them here. No one would have come without us," Ziva said. "Even if it means we have to wait, we have done a lot. If Agent Donovan finds something, we can go outside the city and search."

"Yeah, I guess. It's been so long since we heard anything. What if we're too late?"

"We're not," Gibbs said, tersely.

That was the end of it.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

A hand was shaking him. Tim tried to pull himself out of the deep, exhausted sleep he'd fallen into after the doctor had examined his feet and declared that they would heal up fine if he stayed off them for a few days.

"Tim."

"What is it?" he asked through a wide yawn, his eyes only slightly open.

"Wake up."

Tim gradually got himself awake. He blinked a few times and saw Suhayl standing over him with a serious expression. That woke him up more quickly.

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

"This man you mentioned before. He is an American?"

Tim thought about it. So far as he knew, Ray was a citizen. That was pretty much a requirement for working for the federal government. He didn't know if he had come from somewhere else. He didn't speak with an accent. He fell back on the easy answer. He was definitely not from Yemen or anywhere in the Middle East.

"Yes. Why?"

"There is a man here in this hospital. He was found outside the city, badly injured. He would not answer any questions. He is being treated, but when it is possible, he will be arrested and taken to prison. They suspect him of being here illegally, perhaps with ill intent."

"He probably is here illegally," Tim admitted, "but I don't know that for sure."

"He has said nothing in his defense. In fact, from what I have been told, he has refused to speak at all."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Come and see if this is the man you spoke of."

"And then what?"

"That will be up to you."

"Oh."

Tim got up and limped a little, but his feet didn't hurt as much at the moment, not now that they were getting a break.

Suhayl led him through the hospital to a locked room. It had a window in the door.

"Look and see."

Tim looked through the window. There was a man in the bed. He was burned and bruised. He had stitches over one eye. ...but there was no question of who he was.

"Ray."


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: **I don't usually do a note in the middle of a story, but I just want to warn you that this chapter is all about Levi Carew. It's completely self-indulgent on my part because I've been wanting to share some of the background I made up for him for a long time, but there never seemed to be a good time for it. :)

* * *

**Chapter 25**

Tamara sat down at Carew's desk again. She knew that his assistant didn't know what to make of the ex-wife of the director of the CIA continually showing up and being allowed free reign in his office.

She wasn't sure why she kept coming, herself.

She took a breath and opened a drawer. At the back of the drawer, there was a false front. She opened it and pulled out a photo. For a long time, she just stared at it. It was a picture of a happy family. They were all smiling at the camera.

A family that had been torn to pieces.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Forty years ago..._

It was their third date. His hands were sweaty on the wheel. He wasn't sure what to expect here, she could tell.

Tamara smiled.

"What are you thinking about, Levi?"

He glanced at her and then back to the road.

"Are you really asking or is this just a way of breaking the silence?"

"I'm really asking."

Levi swallowed.

"I'm wondering if it would be okay to kiss you when I drop you off."

Tamara laughed in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes."

"I can't believe you just came out and _said_ that!"

"You asked. You said you wanted to know."

"I know but..."

He stopped the car at a light and looked at her.

"I don't lie. I'll never lie to you. If I tell you something, it'll be the truth. No matter what."

"Oh, come on. Everyone lies sometimes. Even if it's just little things."

Levi shook his head.

"Not me. Never."

"Okay...then, what do you think of this blouse I'm wearing? It's new. I bought it just for tonight."

"I think that it's not as nice as the one you were wearing on our last date. It's not ugly, but the other one was a lot better."

Tamara laughed again.

"That's why you asked if I really wanted to know, isn't it. It's your way of getting around that."

Levi grinned. "I'm not very good at it yet. I'll get better."

"You're an interesting person, Levi."

"Good interesting or is that your way of saying that I'll never hear from you again?"

"Good interesting. ...and you can kiss me when you drop me off."

Levi smiled at her and kept driving.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Thirty-three years ago..._

"Wait...what?" Tamara asked.

Levi sat where he was, forcing Tamara to come to him. She set Brianna on the floor to play with her toys and walked over.

"The last time we talked about this...you were going to be...teaching in high school! Now, you're going to join the CIA? How did this happen? When? Why would you do it?"

"A man talked to me on campus about a month ago. He wanted to recruit me. It had to be kept secret until they decided whether or not to hire me."

"Why _you_?"

"Because he wants me to make some changes to the CIA."

"But...why?"

"I don't know why me...but this could be important, Tamara. I'm not a very good teacher. I know the material, but...people get put off by me, by my eyes. You know they do. Always have been. I used to have old ladies tell me that I must be possessed by the devil, that my eyes were a sign that I was evil. Can you imagine kids and their parents?"

"You never told me that before."

"You never asked. Even if no one says it, they still don't like them. That wouldn't matter at the CIA. It might even be a good thing."

"Levi...people don't talk about working for the CIA. They don't...they don't do that kind of thing."

"Or you just don't know it."

"That's exactly my point! The biggest danger you would face as a biology teacher would be your students getting sick during dissections."

Levi laughed a little.

"Working for the CIA... I don't even know what you'd be doing."

"And you couldn't ever know, Tamara."

"You wouldn't tell me?"

"I couldn't. The work I'd be doing isn't going to be normal stuff. It's secret, classified."

Brianna crawled over and lifted her arms.

"Daddy!"

Levi smiled and picked her up. He started bouncing her on his knee and she laughed.

"What about us, Levi?" Tamara asked. "What about your family?"

"I'll keep you as long as I can."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that what he wants me to do requires that I be really high in the CIA organization. It means that I'll have to work a lot to get there. It's important stuff, Tamara! It'll take time."

"And it'll change _you_, Levi. How much are these changes going to change _you_? I love you. I don't want to see you change. I love you the way you are."

"The changes don't have to be bad, necessarily."

"I feel like they will be. Why do you have to do this?"

Levi set Brianna down, sat back. She could see him hesitating. Silence instead of the lie.

"I know you don't want to tell me, and I know you don't lie. Please, if I'm going to have to deal with wondering whether or not you'll come home, I need to know."

"Because the world needs people who will fight for it. This country needs people who will fight for it, for the people who go through their whole lives never knowing how much danger they could be in. Someone needs to see the bad stuff so that most don't have to. I can be one of those people. I already know how bad people can be."

They both knew what he was talking about. He _had_ told her about his parents' experiences.

"I don't want you to be the one seeing all that."

"I won't ever bring it home. Never. I promise."

"Daddy! Play!"

Levi let Brianna drag him away from the couch and to her toys.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Thirty years ago..._

The door opened and Tamara looked up hopefully. She'd been worrying ever since Levi had left.

"I'm home!"

Levi walked in, smiling easily. Tamara jumped to her feet and ran to the door. She hugged him tightly.

"I was so worried about you."

"I'm fine. No problems."

"None?"

"Well, none that I can talk about."

Tamara laughed a little, relief making her giddy.

"I'll take that. I know this was a dangerous thing you were doing, even if I don't know what it was. I kept expecting to get a phone call saying that something had happened. I'm glad I was wrong."

"I'm glad you were, too."

She could tell he was hiding something from her, but she accepted that there would be things he couldn't say about what he did. She hated it, but she knew that wouldn't change.

Still, it felt like it was pulling him away from her just a little bit.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She smiled...and lied.

"Nothing. I'm just glad you're back. Bri and Quinn are going to be happy, too. They've missed you."

"I missed you all, too."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Twenty-five years ago..._

Tamara watched as Levi sat with Quinn and Brianna, reading them a story. He did it every night he was home...which was becoming more and more rare. This was the only time she saw emotion from him, now. He said he still felt it. He told her he loved her, but there was nothing expressed, except in words. She had never realized how little words meant without emotion behind them.

It tore at her every day. The longer he worked for the CIA, the higher he rose through the ranks, the less he was her husband.

"'And they all lived happily ever after. The end.'"

"Read another one, Daddy!" Quinn begged.

"Not tonight. It's time for bed."

The kids groaned but obeyed. Levi took them to their rooms and then came out and looked at her.

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds and then, he raised his eyebrow in a silent question. Tamara didn't respond.

"Aren't you going to say it?" he asked.

"What's the point?" Tamara asked. "I won't know what you're thinking, regardless."

"You could ask."

"And you won't answer...except with words."

It was to his credit that he didn't ask what she meant. He knew what she meant. They both knew.

"Ask your question," he said.

Tamara felt tears come into her eyes.

"Why are you doing this to us?"

"To protect you."

"From what?"

"You can't know anything. No one can know what I'm feeling. If they do, they'll use it against me. This job doesn't accept weakness. What I'm trying to do is something the old guard doesn't want to have happen. They'll use anything they can to keep me from it. They'd use you if you had anything to tell them. I won't have my family suffer because of what I'm doing. I'll never leave my family to suffer for me."

"We _are_ suffering, Levi," Tamara said, earnestly. "You're blocking us out. You're shutting yourself away and I'm afraid that it's going to come to the point that you don't feel anything at all."

Levi walked to her and for just a moment, all that he used to be was in his eyes. People often assumed that his dark eyes were what made him seem so emotionless, but it couldn't be further from the truth. When he wasn't hiding it from her, his eyes were the easiest things to read. It was just that he had learned how to hide it. It was like he was wearing a mask. It looked just like him but it was rigid. There was nothing real.

He took her in his arms and whispered in her ear.

"I will _always_ feel something. Even if I don't show it. The feelings are always there," he said. "Always."

Tamara started to cry and hugged him tightly.

"Please, let me see that, then."

"I can't promise you that. I told you before. I can't."

He let her go and walked away.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Twenty-one years ago..._

"I can't do this anymore," Tamara said. "I've tried. I have tried and tried to accept this, but I can't. I wish I could, but I can't, Levi."

"I know. I knew it was coming," Levi said, calmly.

They were sitting side by side in a park, neither looking at the other.

"I wish I could hate you."

"I wish you could, too. It would make this a lot easier."

No emotion. Not a shred of it. Nothing. His eyes were blank and cold. The years had only made things worse. Another promotion, another layer of separation.

"You should take the kids. My job won't let me be there as much as they'll need. I won't fight it."

"Your job doesn't let you be there at all. Even when your body is there, your spirit isn't. It's gone."

They had never yelled at each other, never really fought. It was the coldness, the distance, the knowledge that her husband had chosen to put the country ahead of everything else.

"I told you that I didn't know what would happen."

"I told you that I was afraid it would change you."

"You were right. It did."

"I don't want them to know that their father doesn't care about them."

"Their father does care about them."

No emotion.

"He doesn't show it."

"No, he doesn't. It doesn't mean that he doesn't care."

"Yes, it does."

"It doesn't, but if the lie makes you feel better, you can choose to believe it."

"Because you never lie," Tamara said, her eyes filling with tears. "The great Levi Carew doesn't lie. He never lies to anyone about anything. He just hides the truth behind that wretched mask. He hides himself behind it so that no one will ever see him. So that he can destroy himself with no witnesses."

"If I had known that this would be necessary, I wouldn't have married you. I'm sorry that it turned out this way. I didn't want to hurt you."

Still no emotion.

"You wouldn't have said no?"

"I couldn't. I told you when all this started. Someone has to fight."

"It didn't have to be you."

"Yes, it did."

"No, it didn't. I don't know if you're lying to yourself or to me, but it didn't have to be you. You could have said no."

Levi stood up and started to walk away.

"Levi, please."

Tamara got up and reached out to him.

He turned back. For just a moment, one fleeting moment, so quick that she almost missed it, she saw it. The mask dropped for just that second and she saw the regret, the love. She knew it was still there, but it just wasn't enough to know it. It was too hard to know it but not experience it.

Then, the mask was back. He smiled knowingly and walked away.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Thirteen years ago..._

"They're both applying!" Tamara said, angrily. It was the first time she'd been genuinely angry at him. "They told me yesterday."

"Both of them?" Levi asked.

He might have been genuinely surprised.

"Yes! Both of them!"

"I've never encouraged them. Never even suggested it. You know that."

"It doesn't matter! We both know why they're doing it."

"We do?" Levi asked.

"Yes! They're doing it because they can't get access to their father any other way. This is the only way that they can be with you, that they can matter to you."

She wanted to slap the empty expression right off his face, but she knew she couldn't.

"I've been there. They matter."

"I don't care how many times you say it, Levi. It doesn't matter when there's nothing behind the words. I don't even care how true it is. It's only words unless you do something about it."

"And what is it that you want me to do?"

"Stop them! Don't let them become what you are."

"Very few people are what I am, Tamara. There's no reason to expect them to follow me in that respect."

"Except that they want you to notice them, to acknowledge that they're your children. That's what they want, even if they'll both deny it."

Levi got up from his desk and walked over to her.

"Even if I thought I could dissuade them, I wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because they'll be good at what they do. The CIA can use people like them."

She didn't care that it wouldn't do any good. Tamara's anger and fear boiled over and she slapped him as hard as she could.

As she'd expected, beyond the physical reaction he couldn't control, she saw nothing. Even with the handprint forming on his cheek, she might as well have done nothing.

"I hate you," she said.

"I wish you did. You really should," Levi said.

Tamara spun around and walked out of the office.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Present..._

Now, Tamara sat and looked at the photo. She remembered when she had first found it. It had given her a false hope that had quickly been dashed. There was nothing left of this family.

Quinn had been killed. Bri had told her that Levi had taken care of the man who had done it. He had done it himself. He never put those kinds of jobs on other people. To his credit, if it was personal, he kept it that way. Quinn had been avenged, not that it really mattered. Bri had always been more like Levi than Tamara had wished. She had that drive, but she hadn't been as hard. Even so, she had a callousness to her that sometimes made Tamara afraid of what she'd become.

The director of the CIA was ruthless, emotionless, uncaring, highly intelligent... and meticulously honest. She could honestly say that she hated him.

Somewhere beneath that cold veneer was the man she had known. The man who had been nervous about kissing her for the first time and had openly admitted it. The man who had been so excited about getting married that he had called her about twenty times the day before their wedding just to be sure that she was serious that she wasn't going to change her mind at the last minute and leave him at the altar in a monkey suit.

And yet, even then, he'd had a drive to be more, to _do_ more. When she had met his mother and seen that anger and pain that had never quite healed, she had begun to understand why he was that way. His family was evidence of all that could go wrong when people didn't fight to make it better. He had been raised knowing that, being told that. While he had always denied that his upbringing had anything to do with his decision to join the CIA, Tamara could see it. Levi's mother had been a good woman. She had wanted her son to be happy, but she had never been able to deal with the horrors that her husband had gone through which had led to his premature death, that had killed her parents, his parents, their families. Levi's childhood had been defined by violent death. He had known death from a very early age, and then had been told about what had caused those deaths over and over.

For the millionth time, she wished that Levi had become the teacher he'd planned on being.

But wishes weren't reality.

Now, her only hope was that he brought Brianna back alive and that, some day, he might be able to be a human being again.

Tamara sighed and put the photo of that smiling family back in its place. Then, she left the office and went home to wait for news.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Tim looked at Ray through the window for a few seconds and then, he looked back at Suhayl.

"Could I speak to him? Is that possible?"

"Would he speak to you?"

"I don't know. Ray isn't someone I know very well, but I do know him a little."

Suhayl hesitated and then, he walked away from Tim. He was back less than a minute later, speaking quickly to a nurse. Tim just waited. Finally, the nurse pulled out a set of keys and handed them to Suhayl. Then, he walked away. Tim was left wondering anew who Suhayl worked for that gave him so much authority. ...or maybe it wasn't who he worked for but rather Suhayl himself. He had a commanding personality. He did not accept denials.

"He was not happy about it. You will not have much time."

"Okay. I'll be as fast as I can."

Suhayl unlocked the door and Tim hurried inside and approached the bed.

"Ray."

Nothing.

"Ray, can you hear me? Ray."

Ray's unstitched eye opened slightly and then closed.

"Ray, it's Tim."

The eye opened again and stayed open, but Ray said nothing.

"It's a long story, but we got away. I'm glad you're alive."

Ray took a breath and let it out slowly.

"I'm not."

"I understand. How are you feeling beyond what I can see?"

"It could have been worse," Ray said, his voice barely above a raspy whisper. "Not much shrapnel."

"You're not staying here," Tim said, making a decision right then.

"Can't go back. I'm dead."

"I don't care. I'm not leaving you here. We're going to figure something out. That's the end of it."

Ray sighed and shook his head. Then, his eye closed and he seemed to fall asleep again. Tim got up and left. Suhayl locked the door and then hustled Tim back to his room.

"Well?"

"He's hurt, but he's alive. We're going to have to get him out of here. He's not under arrest yet?"

"Not yet, but he will be as soon as he can be moved."

Tim shook his head.

"No. I won't leave him to this. He thinks that the only way he can be free from his guilt is if he dies. I can't accept that. I won't. I can't leave him alone in this."

"It may be possible, but it will have to be only when you are leaving. We cannot hope to hide him in Sana'a and they will notice that he is gone."

"Okay. Can I talk to Levi?"

"Yes. The doctor has treated them both as much as he could in a short time."

"How are they?"

"He removed the bullet from Levi's leg. It is as good as it can be. He will take time to heal. There are some wounds inside that Bri has suffered, but her pain will fade, even if there are other wounds that cannot be seen. She was not treated well."

Tim winced. No matter what it was that Suhayl didn't say, Tim could too easily imagine the kinds of things he was glossing over.

"It will be better for her the longer she is away from it."

"Yeah."

"You may go and speak to Levi."

"Thanks."

Tim limped into Carew's room. Bri was in a bed, asleep. Carew was awake, staring at the ceiling.

Tim cleared his throat and Carew sat up, looking as he usually did, i.e. unconcerned with anything and ready to be amused at the antics of normal humans.

"You look as though you have something to say," Carew said, calmly. "If it's _I told you so_, I'd suggest that you wait until we're actually on our way home."

"Ray is in this hospital. He survived, but he'll be put in prison if we don't take him with us."

"Fine. I have no issue with taking him along. He has his uses."

"It's not just that," Tim said. "You can't leave him living like this."

"It was his choice."

"No, it wasn't," Tim said. "You _know_ that it wasn't his choice, even if you technically gave him one. This isn't helping him. It's making things worse because he has no one to help him through what he did."

"What are you suggesting?"

"You said that he feels like he needs to be punished. You're probably right. He needs to tell the man whose wife he killed that he's guilty."

"Impossible."

"Why?"

"Because Ray was operating on U.S. soil. That's illegal. The CIA does not have the authority to conduct operations in the U.S. That's what he did. Not only did he kill an innocent woman while trying to get to Norton, he killed Norton himself while he was in the U.S. That can't be exposed to public critique. I will not let your sympathy for one man create a national incident. The CIA has enough problems."

"It doesn't have to be a national incident," Tim said.

"How? If you can give me a realistic scenario, I'll consider it."

"Ask the man to come to headquarters...or wherever you want. Tell him that what he's going to be told must be kept secret. Let Ray confess what he did, let him say it."

"And? What happens next?"

Where the idea came from, Tim never knew, but it popped into his head and then out of his mouth before he could actually analyze it.

"And Ray can let the man kill him if he wants to. That would be the kind of justice Ray thinks he deserves."

For once, Tim could tell he'd surprised Carew. He actually laughed a little.

"You're suggesting that we put him at this man's mercy?"

"Yes. Ray wants to die, anyway. He's technically dead according to most of the world. If this man wants him dead..."

"You'd really stand aside and let one man kill another in cold blood? That doesn't seem to fit with your usual methods."

"No."

"Ah, I see. You don't think this man could do it if it came right down to it."

"No, I don't. I don't think most people could, even if they thought they wanted to. Put the gun in their hands and they couldn't pull the trigger."

"Then, why go through the charade?"

"Because it will give Ray the chance to confess what he did instead of hide what he did. Whatever happens after that...I don't know, but it would help him, and I think it would help that woman's husband to have that closure."

"What if you're wrong and this man _would _do it? You don't know him from Adam."

Tim shrugged. "What Ray has been going through is a lot worse."

"If that's the case, then, you could just let him die here. I doubt he'd last long in a Yemeni prison."

"I don't give up on people. The only person I gave up on was myself, and I had others who wouldn't let me do that. That's what Ray needs. I don't know if it'll make a difference, but he needs someone to fight for him, and I'm going to do that. Maybe it's a losing battle, but I don't care."

Carew was silent for a few seconds. Tim waited. He couldn't believe what he'd suggested, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense to him. This was what Ray needed. It wouldn't change what he'd done. It couldn't change the past. Nothing would do that, but it would at least give him a chance to consider the possibility of living without wishing he were dead. What happened later? If there was an afterlife, Tim didn't know how all this would play out...but that wasn't his department anyway, and he was happy to leave it God to sort out. This was enough for now.

Finally, Carew laughed again and shook his head.

"If we actually get out of this, I guess I'm willing to go along with you...so long as the CIA doesn't pay the price for your sentimentality. I won't let you destroy the CIA to make one person feel better."

"But you'll let a man be destroyed."

"I didn't destroy him. _He _made that decision in direct violation of his orders."

"You helped it along."

"Yes, I did. You will notice, however, that he's still alive and free to receive your tender mercies."

Tim shrugged. Carew was much too willing to sacrifice other people if he decided it was necessary. It was only if he decided it was necessary, but the lack of acknowledgment of others' suffering was off-putting at best. If Ray was still alive, then, he was alive. His mental status was irrelevant.

But...

Tim looked over at Bri who was still sleeping.

"Have you talked to her at all?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Well, seeing as she's asleep, I don't think the conversation would be all that exciting."

"Why leave her behind?"

Now, Carew smiled in his usual way.

"She hasn't been. She's right there."

Tim rolled his eyes and shifted back to the topic at hand.

"Suhayl thinks we can get Ray out of here before he's arrested."

"And what will happen after this confession that will purge him of his guilt?"

"I don't know. Even if that's it, it'll be better."

"And you don't think that he deserves to suffer for committing murder? Where's your sense of justice?" Carew asked. "Intentional or not, an innocent woman lost her life."

"I know that, and nothing can change it. Nothing can fix it. Nothing can remove the pain that comes from being part of an innocent death. If you would allow it, I would say that we should let him be tried for the crime he committed. _That _would be justice. Since you say that's not possible, then, something has to give. I'm not judge, jury and executioner. I'm not going to say what he deserves. I'm just going to try to give him a chance for something more than a life of wishing he was dead."

"You're projecting."

"Maybe," Tim said, refusing to be baited.

Carew smiled again.

"Fine. We'll try it. _If_ we get out."

"We will."

Tim got up and limped out of the room. He saw the man Suhayl had called Yasser, but he didn't see Suhayl himself.

"Yasser?" he asked.

Yasser walked over.

"Na'am?"

"I don't really speak Arabic."

"I speak little English. We can try to speak. What is it?"

"Uh, where is Suhayl?"

"Suhayl is...he asks me to...stay here. He goes to find...what he is looking for," Yasser said with a bit of a smile. "I cannot say more."

"That's all right. Uh... shokran."

"'Afwan."

Tim went into his room and sat down. He'd done his best, but now, he had to wait and hope things would work out.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Agent Donovan began to wend his way back to the airport. If these people had been here, they'd hidden themselves very well. None of his usual contacts had known of anything happening in the area.

It might be beneficial to have one of the NCIS people with him as he looked. On the off chance that they were still in the city (if they ever had been in the first place), they wouldn't know who he was, but they'd recognize the NCIS team. Tim knew who he was, but it wasn't guaranteed that he'd recognize a random half-Yemeni walking around on his own. Still, it had been worth trying on his own, first. He knew this place. They didn't.

Besides the fact that it was Tim McGee involved, Donovan still had no idea why the CIA was getting involved in this, nor why NCIS was doing something in Yemen. He hadn't been told anything and that was a little irksome. He could tell that the NCIS people knew more than he did, and he didn't like that, either. He also was bothered by the accusations. He did his job, and he resented it when someone came in and acted like he was the problem.

With a deep breath, Donovan put that to the side. He had never yet given anyone a reason to complain about how he did his job and he wasn't going to start with NCIS. As much as he wanted to limit his interactions with the NCIS people, he knew that he needed to have one of them with him to increase the chances of success.

Decision made, he went back into the hangar and boarded the plane.

"Did you find anything?" Tony asked.

He shook his head. "If they've been here, they're operating way under radar. None of my contacts have heard a peep."

"So what now?"

"Now, I need one of you to come with me while we look. For now, only one. The Yemeni dialect is different from other Arabic dialects, but I'd prefer someone who could speak Arabic coming along." He looked at Ziva, knowing she was likely to be fluent. "And it wouldn't be appropriate for you and I to be walking around together."

"I could conceal myself."

"But that would defeat the purpose of having you along. If they're here, they won't know who you are."

Donovan watched as Tony looked at Gibbs and then sighed and sat down. Gibbs grabbed his gear and raised an eyebrow. No conversation needed. Donovan was slightly impressed at that level of understanding, in spite of himself.

"Let's go," he said.

They left the plane and started back out into the city. It was heading towards sunset, but they could get some searching done. Donovan got them a taxi and had the driver drop them off in one of the neighborhoods he thought was most likely as a place to hide. They started walking.

"You seem comfortable here," Gibbs said, suddenly.

"I've operated in Yemen a lot, spent a couple of years in Aden, couple in Al Mukalla. I was in Ta'izz last year for a few months."

"Why?"

"I know the culture. I know the people. My mother's parents immigrated from Yemen to the U.S. when she was a kid. I can blend in here. Might as well use that."

Gibbs nodded and said nothing else. He may stick out as a foreigner, but he knew how to keep himself as unobtrusive as possible.

"Why this neighborhood?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Because, if I were trying to stay out of sight while still doing some kind of work, this is the place I'd go. You know something about all this that I don't."

"Yes."

"And you won't tell me?"

"Not sure if I should, since you don't know already. If they had wanted you to know, you would."

Suddenly, he paused and nudged Donovan.

"What is it?" he asked.

"That man there, just coming out of the building. Tall, solid build."

Donovan looked and saw the man. His face was mostly covered. He had an authoritative look to him.

"He doesn't look like a Yemeni. Could be a bedouin. They're fairly common here."

"That's what I thought, too."

"Why?"

Gibbs suddenly strode across the street toward the man. Donovan hung back just slightly, watching the people around to make sure that, if this went bad, they could get out of it.

"Suhayl?"

The man stopped and looked at Gibbs for a long moment. Then, he looked around suspiciously and his eyes landed on Donovan. The glance became an intense gaze, and Donovan could see that he was assuming that he was the enemy. He walked over.

"Do not speak out here," the man said in a low voice. "Come inside."

Gibbs nodded and followed without question. Donovan was more suspicious, but he followed as well, watching for anyone else coming along behind. No one did.

The man led them up a narrow staircase to a small flat. Only when the door was closed and locked did he speak.

"Jethro Gibbs. You are not who I expected to see here. Who are you?" he asked, skewering Donovan with a glare.

"Naseem Donovan."

"American?"

"Yes."

"You are Arab?"

"My mother is from Yemen. I'm an American."

He nodded and looked at Gibbs.

"He is with you?"

"Yes."

"Who are you?" Donovan asked.

"Suhayl."

"Bedouin?"

He almost smiled and nodded. "Yes."

"What are you doing here?" Gibbs asked.

"I was sent to look at this place and see if it was still secure. It seems to be. Tomorrow, I would be searching. For you."

"Why this place?" Donovan asked.

"You are here, looking for Tim, I think," Suhayl said.

"Yes." Gibbs leaned forward, looking almost eager. It might have been the first time he'd shown _any_ emotion at all.

"He is here, but I cannot take you to him, now. He will be needing to get back to the U.S. Can you do this?"

"We're here on a plane. A private plane."

"As before." Suhayl looked at Donovan again. "You have done well to help them."

For no reason that Donovan could understand, he actually felt a little better with that brief expression of approval. It was ridiculous, but he did.

"Why can't we come to see him?" Gibbs asked.

"For now, I will ask that you trust me. Will there be room for all of them?"

"How many?" Donovan asked.

"Four, in total."

"Yes. Who else is there?"

Suhayl looked surprised at the question.

"They are all Americans. You will see. One is badly injured. Two are also injured but not as badly. Tim is fine although his feet hurt."

Gibbs nodded ruefully. "We were afraid of that."

"He is well, otherwise. Some bruises, but none serious."

"Good."

"I will speak to Tim and we will see. If all goes well, we may get them to you tomorrow, but I cannot know for certain, now."

"How will you contact us?" Donovan asked.

"Tomorrow, I will bring Tim to this place. If you come here before dhuhr, the noon prayer, we will be here unless something goes wrong. We will only stay for one hour. Then, we will go back. Where are you?"

"The airport in a private hangar. We took a taxi here."

"If you will give me the location, that will be a backup."

Donovan nodded and wrote out the coordinates and address of the hangar. He gave them to Suhayl who glanced at the paper and then hid it away in one of the folds of his robe.

"I will leave, first. You will wait and then go back."

With that, Suhayl left the room. Donovan looked around. This was a base of operations. It had a definite CIA look to it, just the organization of it and the elements that were present. He could be wrong, but that made him wonder just who these other people with Tim McGee were.

He walked over to one corner and started to examine the equipment there.

"You have anything you want to do, Donovan?"

Donovan got up and looked at Gibbs.

"You both seem to know what's going on, but this place isn't just a flat. It's set up like a CIA safe house. I don't like being kept in the dark."

Gibbs shrugged. "Get used to it. If your superiors didn't tell you anything, that's their fault, not ours. I'm ready to go back if you are."

Donovan looked around the room once more. He could see that he wasn't going to be getting any answers out of Gibbs. He wouldn't be manipulated like Tony would be.

"Fine."

They left the small flat and headed back to the airport.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

It was nighttime and very quiet in the hospital room. Carew was still awake. He knew he likely would be for some hours yet. Only part of it was due to the throbbing in his leg. He'd lucked out in that the bullet hadn't shattered any bones or arteries and was a bullet from a handgun as opposed to a shell from a shotgun (which likely would have left him dead). It hurt like all get out and he wouldn't be walking easily for a while, but with the bullet removed and the bleeding stopped, it wouldn't kill him.

Now that the operation was, effectively, over, he had time to think. He didn't generally appreciate these times. Thinking was highly overrated in his opinion, at least when it came to downtime like this. Planning was fine. Thinking... However, with Tim showing a surprising amount of backbone and taking control of the situation, he wasn't the one making decisions. Perhaps it was for the best, but he had nothing to do, nothing to plan for. He was just lying in a bed, not wanting to move if it wasn't necessary. He could have taken painkillers. They'd been offered, but he'd already spent enough time with his mind off in la la land of late, and he wasn't keen on the idea of going there again anytime soon. He lived his life hiding everything whether it needed to be or not, and losing control of one's mind was risky. What he _knew_ he'd said was bad enough. What had he said that he didn't know about?

All things considered, physical pain was something he could deal with.

Carew knew that he'd lucked out having Tim with him, as well. Tim was the kind of person who might _want_ to get revenge when the opportunity presented itself, but he never _would_. He could have left Carew behind multiple times and he hadn't, not once. With a grim smile, Carew thought that Tim might not appreciate it, but he did appreciate that Tim was so reliable. Like Woodrow Hicks, Tim tried not to judge other people, although in his case, it was because he saw his own flaws too clearly. Whatever the reason, he knew that he owed Tim his life...and more than that, he owed Tim his daughter's life.

He heard movement on the other side of the curtain that had been drawn between himself and Bri. So she was awake, too. He hadn't said anything to her and, so far, that silence had been reciprocated. He didn't know if it would change before they reached the U.S., but he wasn't going to be the one to change it.

Suddenly, the curtain shifted.

Bri walked slowly around it and over to the bed. She looked like a shell of her usual self. The strain showed in her face. She was bruised and battered. The confidence was gone, although he would be surprised if she didn't get it back. She'd shown a resilience he'd been proud of throughout her time in the CIA. While her experience had been extreme, she would likely return to her former attitude given time to recover. Time she'd certainly get.

For a long moment, she just stood there, looking at him. He looked back in silence. Then, she started to cry, perhaps for the first time since the divorce. Certainly, it was the first time _he'd_ seen her cry since the divorce. She climbed onto the bed and lay her head on his shoulder.

"I don't care what you want right now," she said softly, her voice choked with tears. "I don't care what you've said in the past. I don't care that I'll hate you again in the future. I don't care about anything. I just want my father to make the monsters go away. I don't even care if you can't. Right now, I need you to try."

Carew looked at her as she leaned against him. It would be easy to push her away. In fact, it would be easier to do that than to do what she was asking of him. However, at this moment, there were no witnesses. None to see what happened. No one to know. Even if it wouldn't be what she wanted, he could do something.

Gently, he held his daughter in his arms and hugged her. Neither of them spoke. There was little emotion being expressed on either side. He just did as he was told. He held her until she slept. He felt her relax and let her go. He didn't move her. He just stayed where he was and resumed staring at the ceiling, knowing that sleep still wouldn't be coming anytime soon for him.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim woke up, momentarily surprised that he was on a bed and wasn't a prisoner somewhere. All in all, that was pretty nice. He sat up and stretched, feeling like he'd actually slept really well for the first time in days. Then, his stomach registered its current state of emptiness and Tim wondered if he could ask for a meal or if he was supposed to wait. He figured that Suhayl or Yasser could tell him without getting offended.

Carefully, he got off the bed, a little worried about how his feet would take it. To his relief, there was a bit of an ache, but for the moment, he was okay. He walked to the door and looked out into the hallway. He smiled to see Suhayl sitting there.

Guard duty.

"Suhayl?" he said, softly.

Suhayl looked at him and walked over.

"You are awake sooner than I expected."

"I feel like I've been sleeping for days."

"You have not. It is only just after eight."

"Great. Is it possible to get something to eat?"

"Yes. Yasser will bring you breakfast soon."

"Good."

"You may not say that when you eat. It is not as good as what we gave you in the desert."

Tim smiled. "I'll take...almost anything. I'd prefer no bugs."

"Good. When you have eaten, we will need to talk."

"Is something wrong?"

"No. Something is right. I would have told you last night, but you were sleeping when I came back to the hospital."

"Breakfast can wait."

"Yes, but it should not. So you will eat, first."

"All right."

Tim went back into his room to wait. Better to stay out of sight as much as possible. He didn't want to make things more difficult for Suhayl.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ziva didn't sleep well after Gibbs told them that Tim was in Sana'a and that they'd likely see him soon. She kept thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong, that they would find out that something had resulted in the worst. She also couldn't help but be excited about seeing Tim whole and happy...and safe.

Early in the morning, she sat up, giving up on sleep. She looked out into the hangar, a little amused that she was stuck in the airport when she was usually the one out in the thick of things. She was also surprised that she was content to stay in the hangar and wait. When had she become willing to hang back while others were in on the action?

After a few minutes, she hit upon an answer.

_When I saw how much pain Tim felt because of my pain._

While she was far from willing to become sedentary, when it came to helping Tim, she wanted only what would keep him from the guilt she still saw in his eyes on occasion. His gaze would move to her wrists, to the scars that would always be there, and she would see the regret. A part of her would always want to rush off and start something, but she would overcome it, if waiting was the best option.

"Not a great view, is it," Tony said, sitting down beside her with a thump.

"I will take this view over many others. And it is possible that Tim will be here today, that we will be going back with him."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"As will I, but I am willing to hope for it, too."

"You're taking this all very well, Miss David," Tony said. "Or am I taking to a pod person?"

Ziva smiled.

"I will wait if that is best, and I think it is. If I did not agree with Agent Donovan, I would already be gone."

"I hate not doing anything."

"Why? That is what you try to do at NCIS every day," she said.

"Ha ha. Very funny. Since when is Tim the one who's in danger all the time, who's in action? When did he become the go-to guy for all this crap?"

"He did not ask for it. He does not want it. He would prefer to go back to how he was, but that is all years in the past. It will never happen."

"Yeah, I know. Have you ever wondered what it would all be like if Tim hadn't been commandeered by the CIA all those years ago?"

"Yes...and then, I try not to think about it. We cannot have that life. It will never be. I would rather focus on how much better it is now than it was."

"Definitely better than last year."

"Yes."

Tony was quiet for a bit. Then, suddenly, he smiled, almost looking like his old self. It wasn't a smile she saw very often.

"When we get back, we're having a party."

"We are?"

"Yes. We're going to celebrate Tim coming back, and we're going to celebrate things being better. I don't care if there are problems. We're going to say it's a good thing."

"As long as Abby does not get to plan it."

Tony laughed.

"No way. We want this to be fun, not an exercise in controlled insanity."

Gibbs sat down across the aisle, cutting off their conversation.

"We can't all go today."

"I will stay behind," Ziva said. "I do not want to attract unnecessary attention to us."

"And I still don't know Arabic," Tony said, reluctantly.

Gibbs smiled a little and didn't say anything more about who was going. It had been more that they needed to agree than that any discussion was needed.

"Just as long as we're not leaving him here."

Tony looked over his shoulder toward where Agent Donovan seemed to be asleep still. He lowered his voice.

"When do we tell him about Carew being one of the people we're expecting?"

"We don't. If they had wanted him to know, they would have told him."

"And yet, it seems ridiculous to think that he will not recognize him," Ziva said. "He is the head of the CIA, not a grunt."

"Doesn't matter. Let Carew decide how to deal with Donovan knowing who he is and that he's out here, not back in the U.S. That's not our problem."

"Fine by me," Tony said. "I don't care about making it easier for any CIA stooge. Who else is coming? You said four."

"Tim, Carew...perhaps Ray?" Ziva suggested.

"If he went with them, that makes sense, but who is the fourth?"

"We do not know what they were doing out here. Maybe that was the purpose. To bring someone back."

"So who's the worst injured? I hope it's Carew."

"I doubt it is. He is too good at saving himself," Ziva said.

Ziva noticed that Tony deliberately didn't suggest that Ray was the one. He had tiptoed around the subject of Ray pretty carefully, and quite frankly, Ziva appreciated it. There was little she wanted to discuss about him and the fact that he was still alive.

"I don't care who it is. It's not Tim and that's what matters," Gibbs said.

"Bring him back today," Ziva said.

"That's my plan."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Suhayl either had the best timing in the world or else he'd been checking on Tim while he was eating because Tim had no sooner finished his last bite than the door opened.

"You are finished?"

"Yes. Thanks."

Suhayl picked up the tray and handed it to Yasser who was waiting in the hall.

"What did you think of it?"

"It was...like bad hospital food. It's almost comforting to see that's the case in hospitals outside the U.S., too. But it was food, and I needed it. So what is it that you need to talk about?"

"Yesterday, Levi asked me to go to the place you had been in before to see if it had been compromised. If it was, then, he would need to make new plans, I guess. It seemed to be undisturbed, although if there were more subtle surveillance, I might have missed it. When I came out of the building, a man called my name."

"And?"

"It was Jethro Gibbs, the man who came for you when you were in Riyadh."

Tim's heart leapt to his throat.

"Gibbs is here?"

"Yes. And others, I assume. There was another man with him that I did not know, but he does not matter so much. I could not let him come here because it might be suspicious to any who could be watching. Today, we will go to the place before the beginning of dhuhr to meet with him and decide the best way to get all of you to their plane. It would be simple without Ray, but with him, it will be harder."

The idea that he'd be seeing someone from his team made Tim so excited it was almost painful. It made the possibility of getting back to the States all the more real. This hadn't been as bad as some of the other times when he'd worked away from NCIS, but he still wanted to go back and having the chance to do it more easily than he'd imagined was wonderful.

"We will disguise you as much as possible without being obvious. When we meet him, we will talk. Then, if all is well, we will get Ray out of his room and you will all leave together tonight. You will fly home and be finished with your travels to this place."

Tim was happy about it, but he suddenly had a feeling of regret that took him by surprise.

"That sounds great...although I'll miss you and Imād...and Samia. It seems weird to say this, but I've met a lot of great people in my worst moments and I've never had the chance to see any of them again, to really thank them for what they did. If you ever come to the U.S., you'll be welcome at my place. Anytime."

"Thank you."

Tim took a breath and refocused. "Should we tell Levi about what we're doing?"

"No. You said it yourself. He is not in charge right now. You are."

Tim swallowed.

"I don't have to be in charge. I'm not really..."

Suhayl shook his head firmly. "You are in charge. This is your time to lead. It is the decisions that _you_ make that matter right now."

That wasn't really what Tim wanted, but it wasn't like Carew could go out and make this plan. Tim could do it, and Carew couldn't. While it was tempting to pass over all leadership duties to Suhayl who seemed like a leader in any situation, Tim understood that Suhayl was not letting him do that this time.

"You have a few hours before we will leave. Relax. Let your feet heal as much as they can."

Tim nodded.

"Is there any chance that they'll be moving Ray before we go?"

"A chance? Yes. A big chance? No. He is still badly-injured. While they are planning on arresting him, they do not want to risk him dying before they know who he is."

"Will moving him make it worse?" Tim asked.

"I cannot say, but I do not think it will be worse than leaving him to prison."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Tim thought about what Carew had said to him. "Do think I'm wrong for wanting to help him?"

Suhayl shrugged. "You wish to help another person. Since you are not doing it for the purpose of harming others, I cannot see it as a bad thing. I do not know the details of what he has done, but if it is like you, then, it is a good thing. Last year, you felt guilt you should not feel. Perhaps he deserves guilt, but trying to help another person is good."

"He killed someone, but even if it wasn't an accident, it wasn't what he wanted...if that makes any sense."

"Yes. It makes sense." Suhayl was quiet for a moment. Then, he nodded. "I see why you wish to be free of this. The problems are more than you wish to bear. You _can_, but you wish to avoid these problems. They are hard and painful, even when they go right."

Tim nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes, I find that I'm too comfortable with it and I don't like that. I want to be easy with myself and what's required of me, but these things that I've been doing don't fit with what I want the world to be."

Suhayl looked at him with a strange expression. Then, he smiled.

"You and I approach the world very differently. I cannot say which is better. Perhaps it does not matter which is better, but I will get you back to the life you want."

"Thank you," Tim said, softly.

Suhayl left and Tim lay back and stared up at the ceiling.

_I can go home._


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Gibbs and Donovan walked to the building again. Donovan gestured for Gibbs to go first and they headed up to the same flat they'd been to before.

Gibbs could see that Donovan was ready for everything to go wrong. He was ready for that, too. Not knowing where Tim had been, what he'd been doing, there was no way of knowing how likely it was that things would go wrong. He could only hope that they hadn't.

He knocked on the door and waited. There was movement. The door opened just slightly and then was pulled open all the way. Suhayl was standing there.

"You were able to come. Come in quickly."

Gibbs and Donovan hurried into the room. Suhayl closed and locked the door behind them. Then, he walked to the only window and closed that as well, plunging the room into dusty gloom.

"Boss."

Gibbs looked over to the corner. He hadn't even noticed anyone there, but out of a seeming pile of debris, a man stood up, pulling a long robe off his shoulders.

"Tim. You all right?" he asked.

Tim had some scratches and cuts on his face, more than a few bruises, a substantial sunburn...and a smile.

"I've been better, but I've been a lot worse," he said.

Then, before Gibbs was ready for it, Tim walked across the room and hugged him. Tim hadn't really asked for physical contact like that, not when things were going all right. In his lowest moments, he'd needed it, but now, when he was actually looking okay, it was a surprise that he would want it.

Tim let him go and then stepped back, looking a little embarrassed.

"It's good to see you, Boss."

Then, Tim looked at Donovan.

"Agent Donovan."

Donovan nodded.

"You know each other?" Gibbs asked.

"He's been one of my...watchers," Tim said. "Just in the last few months."

"You never mentioned that," Gibbs said.

"You never asked," Donovan retorted. "Makes no difference to the job that needed to be done."

"It's beside the point anyway, Boss. We have to get all of us to the plane...and one is going to be a problem."

"Why?"

"Well, he's currently in the hospital with some serious injuries, but as soon as he recovers enough, he's going to be arrested. I don't want that to happen."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, wondering who was in danger of being arrested. He knew that Tim wouldn't want Carew arrested...or at least that he wouldn't want to allow something that he could prevent, even if it was Carew who needed the help.

"How serious?"

"Burns, bruises. It didn't look like there were any broken bones, but he's not going to be walking easily, if at all."

"And you'll be in a rush?"

Tim looked at Suhayl.

"Perhaps not at first," Suhayl said. "If all goes right, we can get him out before they realize, but it is rare that all goes right."

"That's for sure."

"So we need to get the timing pretty much exactly right," Donovan said. "Including takeoff."

"Yes."

"We have permission to be here. We're under the auspices of the CIA, but...if we're making a run for it with someone who is supposed to be arrested, that might not matter. I don't want to be responsible for starting a major international incident."

"I don't think any of us do," Tim said.

"He has said nothing to anyone," Suhayl said. "There is no reason for them to suspect the CIA right away, so long as we are able to get him out of the hospital quickly. If we had another person helping us, it would be better."

"As long as that person looks like he belongs, I'm assuming?" Donovan asked.

"Yes."

Donovan sighed. "All right. This had better be worth it. When do you want me there and which hospital?"

Suhayl gave him the address.

"There is a service entrance in the back. Our truck is parked there. If you go there this evening, I will be there."

"All right. I'll be there."

"Good. With your help, we can move him out to the truck very quickly. Yasser will be a distraction. ...and I will tell the man who owns this truck that he will need to not use it in Sana'a for a while."

Tim smiled a little. "Maybe you can trade him a camel."

"I would not waste a camel on that old truck," Suhayl said, sounding affronted.

Gibbs saw the twinkle in Suhayl's eye, even though his statement had been sincere. He was interested in seeing how Tim interacted with him. There was a lot of mutual respect between the two men. Tim also seemed to feel comfortable with the bedouin, something that Gibbs would never have expected.

"You should go, now. I will see you tonight. We will wait here and then go."

Gibbs looked at Tim and raised an eyebrow.

"I can't leave without them, Boss."

Of course, he couldn't. While it was obvious that Tim wanted nothing more than to go with Gibbs and Donovan to the airport, he wasn't leaving the others behind. There was no point in trying to convince him; so Gibbs just nodded and left with Donovan.

They headed back together, neither of them speaking in the taxi.

Once they were at the airport and walking to the hangar, Gibbs looked at Donovan closely.

"Why you?" he asked.

"Had to be someone. Makes more sense to use someone who already knows something about Agent McGee, and I have connections out here. Not everyone can say that."

"If you've done all this work out here, why were you on the team watching McGee?"

"That's none of your business, Agent Gibbs. People don't get put on that duty if they've screwed up, if that's what you're worried about. I did nothing wrong. It wasn't a punishment."

"Not what you wanted, though, was it."

"Given the fact that Agent McGee doesn't want it, either, I don't think that matters."

Gibbs smiled a little. Donovan wasn't going to share any details that he didn't have to share, but what mattered was whether or not he had the ability to do the job. It seemed that he did. So that meant that Gibbs could wait on the plane and not be quite as frustrated as he would be, otherwise.

They got on the plane.

"How is he?"

"Was he there?"

"What's the plan?"

Gibbs suppressed a smile at how eager Tony and Ziva were to _do_ something. They were going to be very disappointed to learn that they were staying behind, again.

"He was there. He's fine. Agent Donovan is going to meet up with Suhayl and help get everyone back here."

"Agent Donovan? Why?"

"Because I won't attract attention," Donovan said. "If we're ever in Israel, I'll let _you_ do the work, Agent David."

He walked over to the pilot.

"He's got his panties in a bunch," Tony said. "What's up?"

"Nothing. The timing is going to be iffy, though. They have to move someone they shouldn't be moving. We're running the risk of ruining some diplomatic relations."

"How bad?"

"Depends on how much of a distraction the Yemeni government is willing to have."

"We have been talking with the pilot," Ziva said. "Things are getting worse. There is much instability in Sana'a right now."

"That's probably the best time to do something like this," Tony said.

"Possibly. Donovan will go out in the evening. We're going to have to get everyone on board as fast as we can. So we'll need to be ready. I don't know how bad the injuries are, but they're bad enough that Tim seemed a little worried about it."

"Do you know who the injured one is?"

"No. He didn't say."

"So...what do you want us to do, then, Boss?"

"Get this space ready for people who aren't going to be in the best condition. That's all we can do right now."

With a reluctant nod, the three of them began rearranging the cabin in preparation for a quick departure.

They hoped.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"How long do you want to wait here?" Tim asked.

"Just until we are sure that they have gone and we are free to move."

"Do you not trust them?"

"I trust them. It is the people I do not know who may be watching that I do not trust."

Tim smiled and then looked around.

"There's really nothing worth keeping in this place. I was wondering if maybe Ray had left anything here, but really, what's here can stand to be left behind."

"Yes. It was a place to sleep and not much more."

"Not even that sometimes, based on what Ray said."

Suhayl gave Tim a significant look. Tim avoided his eyes. He knew that his need to help Ray was about more than just helping someone who was suffering. He just wasn't sure he wanted to get into that.

"This is more than helping him," Suhayl said, going where Tim didn't really want to go.

"Yes."

"How much more?"

"When I look at Ray...I see what I could have been. He's like this because he's been alone. No one was there to help him work through what he did. I had people there for me. All the time, even when I tried to push them away. They were always there. It kept me from being like Ray is." Tim sat down on a chair and looked at his hands. "When I see him suffering like he is, I feel like...like I have to help him because it's like I'm helping myself. And it's not the same thing. Logically, I know it's not. At the same time, it doesn't matter that it's not. What matters is that I try to stop that in someone else. Maybe it's stupid. Maybe it's wrong. Maybe I should just let him suffer. ...but I can't do that. I can't leave him that way."

"I do not think it is stupid or wrong. But you should know what you are doing and why it matters."

"I do. I know."

"Good. Then, we can go."

"I'm all right with that."

Suhayl pulled Tim to his aching feet. As they headed for the door, Suhayl suddenly stopped and looked at Tim shrewdly.

"And when will you try to do this for Levi?"

Tim raised an eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?"

"When will you try to save him as you are trying to save Ray?"

"I can't save him."

"Perhaps not. He does not seem to be seeking salvation as Ray is. It does not mean he is not in need of it."

Tim couldn't think of any response. Then, Suhayl smiled.

"I am not saying what you must do. I am simply surprised it has not crossed your mind."

"Maybe it has...but Levi's situation is so different."

"Yes, I see."

They left the flat and headed back to the hospital, but Tim couldn't help but think about Suhayl's question.

Did Carew need saving? Quite frankly, Tim had no idea. There was no question that Carew would deny it. Even if he did, was Tim the one to do it? The only reason he was so focused on helping Ray was because there was no one else to do it for him. It was something that he wanted to be able to do to keep Ray from being alone in his misery. If Carew was needing saving from something, Tim felt that it should be someone else...his family, if he'd let them.

"Tim?"

Tim looked up.

"We are back."

"Oh. Yeah. Okay."

"Is this how you have always been?"

Tim furrowed his brow in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"You are worrying about a simple question, wondering if it is your responsibility, worrying that you are not doing enough, when what you have already done is far beyond what might be necessary. Is this how you have always been?"

Tim couldn't help it. He laughed a little.

"I don't know. Maybe. I've been told that I'm too willing to feel guilty about things. An overdeveloped sense of responsibility, I guess."

"Perhaps that is something you should try to fix."

"Well, I'd rather worry too much than not enough. Not enough would make me more like Levi than I want to be."

"What is that English phrase? A happy medium?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"That is what you should be searching for."

"You're probably right."

"But for now, I will leave it to you to tell Levi what will be happening. I must see what Yasser thinks will be best for getting Ray out."

Tim nodded. Suhayl left him outside Ray's door and walked over to where Yasser had been sitting on guard duty. Tim cleared his throat and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

He took a breath and stepped into the room. Bri was lying on her bed, awake but looking beaten and worn. Her eyes followed him as he walked in, but she said nothing. Carew was still pale, but his expression was his usual.

"So what have you been doing with your time, Tim?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Making plans to get us out. You were right. My team is here. They got a ride on a CIA plane."

"Really. That's interesting. Unexpected."

"Why?"

"I rather thought they'd go through the FBI, knowing that they have friends there."

"Well, they didn't. Agent Donovan is here."

"Good choice. Well done, Director Morgan. He's more savvy than I might have thought."

"He's going to come and help us get Ray to the truck and then get us to the airport. We're leaving tonight. I don't think we can hide the fact that you're here and not in the U.S."

Carew smiled. "Well, that will be a surprise for him, won't it."

"You're not worried?"

"No. If Donovan is as good as I think he is, he'll be shocked, but he won't want to ask questions in front of other agents. It might make the CIA look bad, you see. He certainly won't share the information out to others."

"Will you both be ready to move?"

Carew didn't even look at Bri.

"Not quickly, but yes."

Tim looked at Bri. She nodded and then, her gaze flicked away from him. Tim wondered what she was thinking. Had she recovered enough to care that the man she'd helped torture before was now her rescuer? The less-charitable part of Tim hoped she felt guilty about that. While he wanted to save her and get her out of this and he didn't want her to suffer any more, he could admit to being bitter enough about all that had come before to hope she saw the irony.

"I don't know exactly how much time we'll have; so you'll need to be ready to leave at any time."

"Well, I don't have much to pack up; so I think we'll be fine. You still have your pack?"

Meaning, of course, did he still have the hard drive he'd taken from the installation.

"Yes."

"Good. Then, we're fine."

Tim nodded and left the room, trying not to limp. It was a point of pride, perhaps, but it was so rare that _he_ was the one in the best physical condition. He didn't want Carew to know how much his feet were aching. If and when they got back to the States, Tim was planning on lying on his bed and staying there for at least a day. Maybe two or three.

Suhayl saw him and nodded. Tim nodded back and then went into his own room. He checked his pack and set it on his bed. Then, he lay down and closed his eyes. He still felt tired.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

"Tim, wake up. It is time."

Tim sat up quickly, looking around for danger and then the words actually registered in his brain. Suhayl was there.

"Time to go?"

"Yes."

Tim nodded and grabbed his pack. His feet started to ache almost immediately, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind. It wasn't too bad yet. They'd be driving to the airport, not walking.

"Is Donovan here?"

"He is outside. We will need to get Levi and Bri to the truck, first. You will be ready to drive, should it be necessary. Yasser will assist us in getting Ray out, but we are still not sure how well this will work. Obviously, we could not test it in advance."

"Okay. I'll be ready."

Tim started for the door, but Suhayl stopped him.

"One more word, Tim."

"Yeah?"

Tim was surprised when Suhayl hugged him. He had always seemed so stern and formal that this kind of familiar contact was unexpected. Then, Suhayl stepped back, put his hand on his heart and bowed slightly. There was a significance to this that Tim was sure he didn't understand, but he did know that it was sincere.

"I will be forever grateful to have known you," Suhayl said. "If we are in a rush, I will not be able to say good-bye as I should. You are a good man. Fi amanillah."

"You said that before. What does it mean?"

"In God's protection. Wherever you go, may God protect you."

Tim was touched. "Thank you. I don't have the words for how much I owe you, but it's a debt I'm willing to have."

Suhayl smiled and then, it was time to begin. He straightened and led Tim out of the room. They walked to Carew's room and went in without knocking. Carew was sitting up and when he saw them, he nodded without speaking and shifted himself to the edge of the bed.

"Bri?" Tim said softly.

The curtain was pulled back and Bri walked over on her own. She still looked broken, but she was on her own two feet which was a definite improvement. She said nothing to Carew. She barely looked at him. However, she did take his pack, leaving him free to lean on Suhayl. Tim was going to take his usual role, but Suhayl stopped him and let Carew lean on him instead. Bri met Tim's gaze and then looked away, but she had a determined glint in her eye. If she wasn't yet healed, she wanted to regain some of her independence.

They walked out to the truck in silence. Donovan was watching for them, but it was dim enough that he didn't seem to notice Carew's identity. Suhayl helped Carew into the truck. Tim helped Bri when it became apparent that she was still having trouble. Then, he climbed behind the wheel, hoping that he wouldn't have to drive. At least he'd be driving on the right side of the road. It was definitely a relief not to have to worry about that in addition to everything else.

"We will be out as soon as we can," Suhayl said softly. "You must be ready for anything."

Tim nodded.

He watched as Donovan and Suhayl returned to the hospital. He held onto the steering wheel tightly, praying that he wouldn't need to do anything more than let Suhayl take over when he came out.

The three of them sat in a tense silence while they waited. Tim was staring at the door, willing it to open, willing everything to work out as it should. All he wanted was to have things work out right for once. They'd get Ray out, back to the U.S. No one would die. And life could go on.

"How long will we wait?" Bri asked almost in a whisper.

"Until they get here," Tim said. "Or until we have no choice but to run."

"That might be too late."

Tim looked at her.

"It might have been too late to get you out, too, but we did it anyway. We wait."

She looked away. Tim moved his gaze back to the door.

_Please, open. Please, let this work. Please._

Then, the door opened. Donovan and Suhayl were supporting Ray who was, essentially, dangling between them. Yasser was looking back into the building. Donovan got into the back of the truck. Suhayl handed Ray up to him. Then, Yasser came over and spoke urgently to Suhayl who nodded and then hugged him much as he had Tim before. Yasser walked away from the hospital while Suhayl ran around to where Tim was sitting.

"We must go. They will realize he has gone in moments."

Tim scooted over, forcing Bri and Carew to do the same. Suhayl climbed in, started the truck and drove out of the lot. To Tim's surprise, he didn't drive quickly. Instead, once he was a block or two away from the hospital, he slowed down to the speed of traffic.

"If we rush, we will seem guilty," he said, answering Tim's unasked question. "It is unlikely that the nurse who opened the door for us will not remember us. Yasser disconnected the cameras, but still, people will have seen us."

"How much time do we have before it's too late to get to the airport?"

"Impossible to say. It is unlikely that they will expect us to go there. They do not know who Ray is, who you all are."

"What about you?"

Suhayl smiled.

"I am bedouin. Without this truck, I will disappear."

"Thank you, Suhayl."

"Thanks are not necessary, but you are welcome."

Silence fell once more. Tim watched as Suhayl expertly wove in and out of traffic on the roads where there didn't seem to be any rules at all. It would have been terrifying if someone else was driving.

"How much further?" Carew asked into the silence.

"A kilometer. No more."

"Will they know by now?"

"Yes. Very likely. They will search the hospital, first."

"I agree that you don't want to rush, but perhaps a slight increase in speed?"

Suhayl glanced at him.

"You are worried?"

"Slightly."

"Very well."

Their speed increased. Then, up ahead, traffic began to slow. There were flashing lights about a block away from them.

"What's this?" Tim asked.

"I cannot say."

"It wouldn't be for us already, would it?"

"Again, I cannot say. Unlikely but we should not risk it. I will go around."

He turned off the main road into a narrow alley. He slowed as he navigated the much narrower space. Then, he turned again onto a wider road and resumed their course. It was a detour that made Tim more than a little nervous, but he said nothing about it. He just waited. They drove on the smaller road for about a mile and then Suhayl went back a block and turned south again. There was the airport. He drove to a row of hangars and stopped the truck. Without even a pause, he opened the door and got out, leaving Tim to help Carew and Bri out of the truck while Suhayl helped Donovan get Ray out.

"Director Carew."

Tim could almost smile at the incredulity in Donovan's voice. He turned around and saw Donovan standing there, looking shocked. Tim couldn't blame him, but it _was_ a little amusing.

"We still have to take off, Agent Donovan," Carew said, calmly. "Perhaps you should save the surprise until later."

Donovan stared for a second more and then refocused on what he was doing. Tim supported Carew as they headed into the hangar while Bri walked on her own. Slowly, yes, but on her own.

They headed for the plane, and Tim noticed that the doors were already open and the plane was ready to taxi out, probably as soon as they were on board.

Before they could climb the stairs, Gibbs was there, ready to help get Ray on board. Suhayl allowed him to.

"I will not delay your departure," he said. "Salaam 'alaikum. Peace go with you."

"'Alaikumu salaam," Tim said. "You, too. Thank you. A million times. Thank you."

"Farewell, Tim McGee."

Suhayl turned and left the hangar. Tim saw him get into the truck and drive away. He hoped that Suhayl would get out of Sana'a as easily as he had said he would. He would likely never know.

"Tim! Time to go!"

Tim turned around and nodded. He hurried back to the plane, helped Carew up the steps and then helped Gibbs close the door behind them, while Carew sank down onto the nearest seat.

Then, he started to turn around, but he barely had time to do that before he was enveloped in a tight hug.

"Tim! You're okay!"

The voice was Tony's, but the arms around him weren't. Tim tried to pull back just a little. He saw that it was Ziva hugging him. She wasn't saying a word. She was just holding him.

"Nice to see you, too, Ziva," Tim said.

He looked over her shoulder and saw Tony. He looked more relieved than anything else. Tim hugged Ziva back and then disentangled himself from her. He was surprised to see tears.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked. "I'm here. I'm fine."

"And I am very glad," Ziva said softly. "I have seen very clearly how bad it could have been for you."

Tim glanced over where Donovan had helped Ray lay down. Ray looked more than a little rough, but, as Tim knew, there was so much more wrong with Ray than his physical condition. He looked back at Ziva.

"It wasn't that bad," he said. "Ziva, I'm not like that anymore."

"I know. I see that, now."

She let him go and wiped at her eyes. Then, Tim looked at Tony and was equally surprised when Tony hugged him quickly, too. Not the same way that Ziva had, but it was still a surprise.

"I wasn't expecting this kind of...mushiness," Tim said, trying to keep himself from acting like a wimp in front of Carew and Bri. He was happy to see them, ecstatic to be safe again, but still...

Tony grinned. "We're just getting you prepared for Abby."

Tim smiled in reply and then had to balance himself when the plane started moving.

"You're looking a bit rough."

"Am I?" Tim asked. "I thought I was doing pretty good."

"Well, it's not as bad as last time, but you've got a nice shiner there and did you rub your face on gravel?"

Tim laughed at the description.

"More or less."

"More? Or less?" Tony asked.

Donovan came out from the cockpit. Tim glanced at him and then looked at Tony again.

"Later, okay?"

Tony nodded.

"We've got our clearance to take off," Donovan said briskly. "We're going to do that before things fall apart. If you could just take your seats until we get in the air."

Tim turned to check on Carew. He was way too used to hauling him around at this point and it felt completely natural to make sure he was okay.

"Is that where you want to stay, Levi?" he asked.

Carew raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

"Might as well be me helping you as anyone," Tim said.

"Considering there are people _without_ damaged feet on this plane, there are others who can take up the slack where necessary."

"How _are _your feet, Tim?" Tony asked, instantly concerned.

"Hurting, but not too bad."

"Sit down, McGee," Gibbs said. Then, he looked at Carew. "Do you want to move somewhere else?"

"This will suffice for the time being, Agent Gibbs. Thank you," Carew said.

Tim looked at Carew and then at Bri, both of whom looked relieved to be sitting, and he suddenly didn't know where to go. It was a moment of complete confusion. Did he sit by them or by his team? And what about Ray? It shouldn't have been a hard decision, but it froze him in place for a second.

"Tim?"

Ziva's voice broke through that confusion and he smiled at her. Then, he sat down by Ziva and across from Tony and realized how nice it felt to _not_ be standing. He looked at them and then, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He hoped they didn't mind, but the exhaustion he'd kept at bay for the last few weeks had finally decided to hit him and he wanted nothing more than to sleep. As the plane taxied to the runway, he could feel himself slipping deeper and deeper into sleep. By the time the plane took off, he was out.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Ziva watched as Tim relaxed and fell asleep. Part of her wanted to have him stay awake and talk to them, but if he was that tired, she didn't feel like it was right to try and force him to stay awake.

"Well, that's kind of disappointing," Tony said, although he kept his voice low. "All this time we spent waiting and worrying and he just goes to sleep?"

Ziva smiled.

"He must be tired. We are now on our way home. We will see him again."

"I know. I just feel like...we didn't really do anything this time. We sat around back in DC. We sat around in Yemen. Now, we're sitting around again. It makes me feel...kind of useless."

Ziva felt the same way, but in case Tim wasn't really asleep, she didn't want to admit to that.

"If we were so useless, Tim would not have been so happy to see us."

"Yes, he would. Tim doesn't care about how useful someone is." Then, Tony became serious. "I saw Ray."

Ziva felt her stomach clench at the thought of how Ray had looked. It hadn't made her conflicted feelings about him any easier to deal with. She nodded.

"Are you going to talk to him at all?"

She glanced back to where Donovan was checking him and then shook her head.

"At this moment, I do not think so. It was hard enough when I thought he was dead. Now..."

Tony reached over and squeezed her hand. He didn't say anything else, but Ziva appreciated the gesture. She looked at Tim again, noting how different he was from Ray, and how easy it was to imagine him in the same situation Ray was in. They had been on the same basic road but had taken different paths. It had taken Tim a long time to get to where he was now. She had been so happy to see him looking, mostly, like himself when he'd come on board. Yes, he had scrapes and bumps and bruises, but it was his eyes that had shown just how well-recovered he really was. They were bright and alive. That was enough for now.

"What do you think all this was about?" Tony asked in a low voice. "Looks like they've all had a pretty rough time. Don't know what's wrong with Carew, but he sure wasn't walking easy."

"I do not know, but did you notice that Tim called him by his first name?"

"Yeah. That was weird, and it seemed normal for him, but I don't know why it would be."

For a moment, Ziva worried that Tim had made another deal and that he was going to leave them. She looked at Tim and saw how utterly relaxed he was. Could he really sleep that soundly if he was worried about working for the CIA again? She didn't think so.

"He will tell us what he can, when he can."

"Yeah. Maybe he's the smart one."

"Maybe?" Ziva asked with a grin.

"Ha ha. We have a long flight. It's night time. Maybe sleeping is the best idea."

Ziva wasn't sure she would be able to sleep right now, but Tony had a point. She reclined her seat and tried to relax. Tim was back. He was okay. That was what mattered.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

There was a thump and Tim came awake quickly, looking around for danger, not sure where he was.

It was not really loud, but it wasn't the quiet desert, either. And it was cool.

The plane. They'd got away. He let out a long, slow exhale and looked around. Tony and Ziva were sleeping in the seats by him. That was nice to see. Unfortunately, Tim suddenly realized that he had another issue. He tried to stand up without disturbing his friends, but he had to answer the call of nature whether it disturbed them or not. His feet ached again, but he still needed to use the bathroom.

_I have to see a man about a horse,_ he thought to himself and then, suddenly, wanted to laugh at the strange image of a horse on the plane. Or maybe it would be one of Suhayl's camels. Again, he wanted to laugh, but he didn't want to wake Tony and Ziva.

Carefully, he edged himself to the aisle and then looked around until he found where the bathroom was. He hurried to it and was amazed at how luxurious a teeny-tiny airplane bathroom seemed after days of being in the desert. In fact, now that he thought about it, he probably smelled bad. He hadn't showered in more than a week (and that was counting the time in the rain as a shower) and much of that time had been spent running, fighting or being tossed around. Well, no one had said anything about it, and he wasn't going to try bathing with this teeny sink. They'd just have to deal with it.

He finished up in the bathroom and then came out and looked around the plane. Ray was out. Sleeping or unconscious, who knew. Carew also seemed to be asleep.

Bri was awake. She looked at him and then looked away. Donovan was awake. He was sitting by himself, looking through some papers or something. Tony and Ziva were asleep.

Gibbs was awake.

Tim limped over to him and sat down across from him.

"Hey, Boss."

"Surprised you're awake with how fast you fell asleep."

Tim smiled. And wanted to laugh yet again, like Gibbs had just told some riotous joke.

"Some things can't be ignored forever. Did you sleep?"

"A few hours. We'll be landing to refuel soon. In France."

"Oh. Going to do some sightseeing?" Tim asked, feeling strangely humorous. It was like the whole situation had suddenly become a comedy and Tim wanted to laugh.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"No. Not likely. How you feeling?"

"Relieved." Boy, that could have multiple meanings. Another not-funny thought that made him want to start laughing.

The eyebrow went higher.

"Is that all?"

Tim thought about all the words he could use to describe his current state.

"That's the simplest one to use. If you want the whole list, it'll take a while."

Still that strange vein of humor. It made Tim want to start laughing, even though it wasn't really funny. It was a little unsettling, actually.

"Tim?"

"I don't know, Boss. Really. I don't know. Right at this moment...and I know this will sound weird, but I want to start laughing, but I'm afraid that, if I do, I won't be able to stop. And I don't want to wake anyone up."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I really don't know, but everything seems hilarious and it's like I'm waiting for the punch line to a joke, even though there's no joke. It's like when...when I first got on the plane and I couldn't decide where to sit. It made no sense, but for a moment, it was like I couldn't even move because I didn't know what seat to pick." He let out a little hiccup of laughter and tried to stop it. "I don't know. It's like I'm going a little crazy. I've done that before, you know." He laughed again.

Gibbs got up and changed seats to sit right by him. To Tim's surprise, he put an arm around Tim's shoulders.

"Just relax, Tim. It's all right."

"I know it is. I know it's all right."

"You're safe now. We're on our way back. You don't have to worry."

Tim looked at Gibbs.

"I know that, Boss."

There was another feeling rising up beneath that strange wave of levity. Tim could sense it getting stronger as Gibbs kept talking.

"I'm sure it was bad out there, but it's over now."

"I don't... It's..."

Then, he felt like crying and, for some reason, he did. And he felt stupid. Gibbs didn't say anything more. He stayed where he was.

"I don't...know why I'm like this... Boss. It's so stupid," Tim said through the tears. He actually still laughed a little. "I..."

"It's all right, Tim. No one can see it. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Except you," Tim said and tried to smile, even though he was still crying.

"Don't worry about it. Just let it come out. It'll stop when you're done."

For a few minutes, Tim was crying. Not loudly, not wildly. It was just tears, but finally, he felt the need to cry lessen and it wasn't replaced by that strange desire to laugh. He felt much more calm than he had before.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah. I don't...know what that was at all. I don't know where it came from."

"Ducky thought something might happen when you were done."

"Ducky?"

"Yeah. He was worried that you'd be overwhelmed by whatever you had to do."

"And he thought I might start laughing and crying for no reason?"

Gibbs chuckled. "No. He just said I should be ready for that if it happened. I figured that's what this was. It's happened before."

Tim was about to ask what in the world Gibbs was talking about, but then, he remembered. When all this had started. Years ago, at the beginning of the horror. He had sat in Autopsy and laughed and laughed about something that wasn't funny and then suddenly started crying as his mind tried to cope with everything that had happened.

"So...you guys thought I might lose it again?"

"Well, you did once before. If you had to keep everything in, letting it out might come when you weren't expecting it."

Tim took a few deep breaths.

"Not saying that we thought you'd go crazy."

"But since I've been crazy once...?"

"Even if everything went exactly right, you'd probably have some problems. Nothing wrong with that."

"Everything didn't go right, but it was okay. It really was...after we got away."

"Away?"

"Yeah. It was the part that went wrong." Tim took another breath and let it out in a whoosh, feeling all that tension he'd been carrying without realizing it start to ease off.

"Can you talk about it?"

"Not right now, and never all of it."

"Never?"

"Some of it really does need to stay completely hidden, Boss. I know you don't like that. I know none of you will like that, but this wasn't just a rescue attempt. It was something else, and what it was needs to stay a secret."

"Is it over?"

"Mostly."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that I have something I need to do when we get back to DC, but it's not part of a mission. It's just in DC, and it's about Ray."

"Ray? Why him?"

"Because I need to help him...as much as he can be helped. Carew agreed to set it up, but I want...no, I need to be there with him for this."

One more deep breath, let out in a whoosh, and Tim was starting to feel normal again.

"Thanks, Boss. Thanks for letting me freak out."

"Anytime."

Tim laughed a little.

"Maybe when we get back I can start something new and not freak out again."

"I've got the wood."

"I know."

Tim started to get up and then his eyes fell on Carew's sleeping form. He sank back down.

"I learned some things about Levi... about Carew."

"First-name basis?"

"Sort of. He didn't want us to give away who we were by using last names that might be better known than first names. I got into the habit of it."

Gibbs said nothing; so Tim went on.

"I learned things he didn't want me to learn. He got drugged and he wasn't in his right mind, and he said things that... I still think the way he's chosen to be is unnecessary and only hurts people, but I feel like I understand him more. And I can't hate him, not now."

Still nothing.

"It was easier when I didn't know the things about him that make him human. He doesn't want people to pity him. He doesn't want sympathy, but he has it from me...and all because of things he said when he was too drugged to control what he said and did."

"How do you know they're real?"

"I asked him."

Gibbs smiled. "Of course you did."

Tim smiled back. Then, he went solemn again.

"I don't know how to reconcile that, Boss."

Gibbs shrugged. "Don't bother. You've known more about him than anyone and you've known that for years. Knowing more doesn't change things."

"I feel like it does, though."

"Don't focus on that, Tim," Gibbs said. "You can't let yourself fall into that trap. Whether Carew deserves your pity or not, he doesn't want it."

"But he still has it. I can't change that."

"Just remember that he's not likely to feel the same."

"I know. Mostly, I just needed to tell someone. I can't share what he told me because that feels wrong, but I can talk about how it made me feel...and it made me confused."

"Carew is who he is, and whatever that means is the same whether you know it or not."

"Yeah. I just wish that things could be simple. They were once, you know. Everything in my life was pretty simple...but it hasn't been, not for years. This is just one more complication."

Gibbs actually seemed to regret what Tim was saying, but Tim had long since forgiven Gibbs for what had begun all this. If any of them had known how that hacking of the CIA would turn out, Tim would never have been asked to do it. He knew that.

"I'm going to try to sleep some more," he said.

Gibbs just nodded.

Tim got up and limped back to his seat. He sat down and reclined the seat once more and then, he yawned. Yes, he was still tired. Acknowledging what he'd felt and the fact that he'd expressed it had left him feeling sleepy and since they had a lot of time left before landing, he was happy to sleep some more.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

The rest of the flight was blissfully uneventful. They refueled in France and then landed in DC a few hours later. Donovan made arrangements for Carew, Bri and Ray to be taken to a hospital and that left the NCIS people to their own devices. The pack Tim had been carrying had conveniently vanished at some point during the flight. Tim didn't care. He didn't want all the information he'd managed to get. He would rather have that be part of the CIA and leave him out of it.

They might have been surprised, but Tim asked Gibbs to drop him at his apartment so that he could just sleep. He didn't really explain it, but he just wanted to be able to sleep in his own bed and reconnect with his life. He needed that downtime...and that time alone. He hadn't been alone since this thing had begun and he really wanted to have some time to himself.

So, in spite of some protests, Gibbs took Tim to get Jethro and then back to his apartment. Tim went inside, took a long, hot bath and got clean for the first time in weeks. Jethro fawned over him which made Tim smile at his antics.

Then, he got into bed and lay down on the soft mattress and sighed with relief. No moving, no rushing around, no confusion (at least, not right now). Just stillness, quiet, calm. Jethro climbed up on the bed and lay down. Obviously, he could tell that Tim wouldn't mind that rule-breaking tonight.

Silence. Quiet. Solitude.

Tim stared at the dark ceiling above his head, thinking about all that had happened. It had been pretty successful as far as these things went, but Tim hoped he never had to deal with it again in his life. He'd paid back what he owed to Carew, and even if Gibbs was right and he still had a connection to the CIA that he couldn't really rid himself of, the only people he had a debt to were people he could never repay, people who would never _ask_ him to repay.

It was a feeling of freedom that he hadn't had in so long that he almost didn't know how to deal with it.

"It's all my choice now," he said softly. "Jethro, it's all my decisions. I know I can't control what other people will choose, but I don't owe Carew anything, now. He's made the decision to keep people watching me. That's all on him. I didn't ask for it. I don't have to think about that part. Whatever I do now, I don't have that hanging over my head anymore. No matter what else, that means something."

That being said, Tim was unable to sleep. However, he didn't really mind that. He was all right with lying awake in bed, feeling that complete relaxation that came from the knowledge that he was home and safe. ...and not having to put any weight on his aching feet. _That_ was something he deeply appreciated.

He lay there for hours and eventually drifted off to sleep, listening to Jethro's contented breathing and the silence of his home.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The ringing telephone wormed its way into Tim's sleep, bringing him back into the land of consciousness.

He wasn't happy about that. He had wanted to sleep forever.

But, given the fact that he had only just got back from his last unwanted adventure, he'd better not risk panic from the people that were surely on the other end of the line.

Yawning, he reached for his phone and answered.

"This had better be important," he mumbled, hoping that it wasn't important at all.

"_Tim, are you aware that it's after ten a.m.?"_

"No, Tony, I wasn't...because I was asleep. What's up?"

"_Obviously, not you."_

"Nope. I was planning on never getting up again," Tim said.

"_Not gonna happen, Probie."_

"Then, I was at least planning on not getting up today."

"_Still not happening."_

"Come on, Tony! I just got back from having to do way more running than my physical therapist would have wanted. I didn't get a lot of sleep. I just took a bath for the first time in weeks last night. Don't I deserve one day to lay around?"

"_Maybe."_

Tim smiled. "If you want to do something, you could bring me breakfast in bed. I'd take that."

"_You have security in your building now, Probie. It's harder to get in."_

"Harder, but not impossible."

"_What's your suggestion?"_

"That you use my door code, 435, and have Ziva use her key to get in here...and then, you can bring me breakfast so that I don't have to get out of bed."

"_I think you'll have to get out of bed, eventually, Probie."_

"That's true, but I'm more than willing to put it off at this point."

"_Well, I guess I can accept that, but don't get used to it."_

"I wouldn't dream of it," Tim said, relishing the normalcy of teasing. Maybe it was a little forced, but he didn't care. It was so great to have it instead of the strained interactions with Carew.

"_Then, we'll be there."_

"Sounds great."

Tim hung up and then lay back and stretched. It felt wonderful to be home, to be back in the world that made sense, away from the world that could all too easily _start_ to make sense.

Then, he decided that he needed to answer the call of nature. While he little relished standing up so soon, he did need to, and if he got up now, he could get back in bed before Tony and Ziva showed up.

Jethro jumped up as soon as Tim started moving. He was excited that Tim was awake.

"I'm sorry, Jethro. There's not going to be any running for a little while. I'll get Tony or Ziva to take you out when they get here, okay? Can you wait that long?"

Jethro just barked at him. He wasn't acting particularly anxious; so Tim assumed that it would be all right. He stood up and winced. Yes, his feet were still hurting. He limped into the bathroom, did his business and then limped back to bed. He got back into bed and lay where he was without moving until he heard a key in the lock. He really hoped that it was Tony and Ziva.

"Tim?"

"I'm still in bed!" Tim called, more relieved than he would admit at hearing Tony's voice.

"Lazy."

"I told you that's where I'd be. I'm just following through."

There was a laugh.

Tony and Ziva came into the bedroom with coffee and donuts. Not the most exciting meal in the world, but Tim would take it. Coffee and donuts seemed like luxuries after the kinds of things he'd eaten in Yemen. While he could appreciate the extravagance that Imād and Suhayl had expended in feeding him and Carew, that wouldn't replace his preference for simple, unhealthy, American, fried dough.

With sprinkles.

He sat up and smiled.

"You have no idea how good that smells," he said.

"Are you feeling all right?" Tony asked seriously.

"Yeah. My feet hurt, but I'm pretty good, otherwise. I just don't want to walk around if I don't have to."

Ziva leaned over and hugged him tightly again. Tim understood, as much as he could, but it was still a surprise to see her so expressive.

"Is this the end?" she asked as she sat down on the bed.

Tony sat down as well and handed Tim his coffee. Then, he opened up the box of donuts and set it in between them all.

"I don't know," Tim said, honestly. "After everything that's happened, it seems silly to think that this could really be the end of it, but I don't owe Carew anything anymore. We're even as far as that goes. And if that's the best I can say, I'll take that."

"Are you sure?" Tony asked. "I don't trust him."

"I do," Tim said.

"What? Why? After everything he's done, why would you trust him?"

Tim took a drink of his coffee and savored the flavor for a moment. Then, he shrugged.

"Because I know Carew. I know him more than I want to, and I know what to expect from him most of the time. I won't pretend to understand why he made the choices he did, but by now, I think I know a lot about the choices he'd make. He knows that I've paid my debt, and he won't pretend that I haven't."

"What happened out there?"

"Some things that can't be shared, not with anyone. What Carew and I went out there to do is something that can't ever have happened. I'd tell you guys if I could, but I can't."

"We won't tell anyone," Tony said.

"It's not about that," Tim said. "Really, guys, I wish I could, but I can't. I can tell you that we did what we needed to do, and some extra stuff that we weren't necessarily planning on, but that's it. It's not about me trying to protect you or anything like that. It's just that I can't tell you."

"Are you sure?" Ziva asked. "You have tried that before."

"I know, and I know that you're probably thinking that, but I promise that what I'm doing is what I _have_ to do, not what I want."

"Can you tell us _anything_?"

"Well...in a few weeks, probably, I'm going to try and help change Ray's situation."

"How?"

Tim hesitated. Where he had no idea how well it would work, he felt like it wasn't a good idea to share this part. For one thing, it sounded crazy out loud even when it made perfect sense in his head.

"Ray is alone in this. No one besides us knows he's alive. He can't even have the possibility of submitting to justice. So he knows he's getting away with murder, and he knows that what he's done can't be fixed. That's going to kill him if no one stops him. So...I got Carew to agree to do something about it."

"Carew? What did you promise him?" Tony asked.

"Nothing," Tim said. "Carew knows that Ray needs this, and as long as it doesn't negatively affect the CIA, he doesn't care one way or the other...and like it or not, this is a CIA matter, not an NCIS one. I'm only involved because..."

"Why?"

"Because I can't stand to see someone in the same place I was go without the help I got. Ray is no less deserving of a chance to get some kind of life back than I am. Maybe he can't get everything back. Probably he can't, but he can have more than hoping that he makes a fatal mistake and dies this time. If I can do something about that, then, I will." Tim looked at both Tony and Ziva, daring them to say that he shouldn't.

They didn't.

Tim took another drink and then, ate his donut, again savoring the flavor, the texture, the fact that there was no sand in his teeth.

"Man, this is great," Tim said. "I'm home. I'm eating normal food." He smiled. "And I'm with friends."

Tony grinned. "Don't get all mushy on us, Probie."

"I won't, but really...what I'm feeling now is...relief."

"So am I," Tony admitted. "As long as you promise that you're not holding out on us this time."

"I promise," Tim said, easily. "The only things I'm not telling you are directly related to the operation and those are things I can't tell you. I won't be telling Gibbs, either, just so you know."

"Does that mean things will go back to normal, then?" Ziva asked.

"Can they ever?" Tim asked. "Really...I don't think that normal is a word that can apply anymore." He leaned back against the bed. "Sometimes, I let myself wonder about how things would have been if none of this had happened, if that CIA crew had never found me and...and _that_ would have been normal. This isn't normal, but it's what I've got, and thanks to both of you, it's a lot better than it could have been. It's a real life. In spite of what I've done and had done to me, I have a life that I can live, and I can accept it."

"I guess if you can, then, so can we," Tony said.

"I hope you can. ...and I hope that one of you are willing to take Jethro out and let him do his business. I don't want to have to clean up a mess on the floor." He gave Tony a winning smile.

"All right, Probie. You're lucky I like you. Come on, Jethro. Let's go out."

Jethro leapt to his feet and started jumping around excitedly.

"Oh, Tony. He likes you!" Tim said.

"Yeah, yeah. I can't believe Abby named this dog after Gibbs. I feel weird every time I say his name."

"I'm getting used to it," Tim said. "And besides, he's good company. Quiet, attentive, hangs on my every word."

Tony groaned, but he clipped the leash on Jethro's collar and led him out of the apartment.

For a few seconds, there was only silence. Then, Tim decided just to say it.

"You could see it, too, couldn't you," he said.

"See what?"

"The similarities between me and Ray."

She nodded.

"That's why you wanted make sure you spoke to me every day."

"Not only that," Ziva said, looking up at him. "It was the only thing I could offer to help you. If I could have come, I would have, but it was not possible. I wanted to help you. I have seen you suffer so much, Tim, and so much of it you would not let us help you with. If I could help you by being a voice on the phone, then, I would."

Tim squeezed Ziva's hand. "It was a help. I loved hearing from you guys back here, and knowing that you would always be there, no matter who else was, was something to look forward to. But, Ziva, you know that I could be Ray."

"No, you could not. We would not have ever let you get to that point."

"I was falling there whether you wanted me to or not," Tim said. "Even now, I have days." He slid his hand to the scars on her wrist. "Whenever I remember what you all went through because of me."

"I will not repeat what we have said over and over."

Tim smiled a little. "I know it. So do you. It's hard to believe it sometimes."

"Even now?"

"Even now. Maybe for a long time. Ziva, there are things I've done that I can never take back. Just like Ray."

Ziva shook her head. "No. You may not believe it, but what you have done is very different from what Ray did. You were forced to help people. Ray chose to kill."

"It seems different to you. It doesn't to me. ...and I can't leave Ray to live in that dark place because I know how it feels to be there."

"I understand that much."

"Do you think you could ever go back to him?" Tim asked.

"No. Whatever love I had for him is gone."

Tim nodded and didn't say anything more. He understood that, and he would never try to push where Ziva didn't want him to go. He just wanted to help her understand what he was doing and why.

"What will you do, now that you have no reason to work for the CIA again?" Ziva asked.

"Live my life. Do the job I actually want to do. It's...nice to have that be all."

"Will it be?"

"I don't know if it will or not, but for a while, it should be. Carew said that I'm only as important as people think I am. The longer I go without contributing anything, the less importance I'll have."

The door opened and they heard Jethro paws click across the floor.

"Okay, what did you guys talk about while I was gone? And don't say nothing because I'll know you're lying," Tony said.

Tim smiled. "Just about Ray and what I want to do for him."

"Well, I may not get it completely, but I can't say that I blame you for wanting to help him. I hope you can," Tony said.

"So do I."

"When will all that go down?"

"I'm not sure. Ray needs to recover, first. He got caught in an explosion and it was pretty bad."

"And you?" Ziva asked. "How long will you take to recover?"

"Today, at least. But I know I won't want to lay around for too long. I don't like being gone from NCIS if I don't have to."

"Like before?" Tony asked. "When you were afraid to leave it?"

"Not exactly, although probably, there's some of that in it. It's just that NCIS is part of the normal life I want." Then, Tim smiled. "But you're still right, Tony."

"I am? About what?"

"That it's all the same world." Tim took a breath, hesitated, and then, remembered what Suhayl had told him. "And so...later, not now...if you guys want to know more about the things that happened, you can ask me and I'll try to answer."

Tony and Ziva exchanged shock glances.

"What made you change your mind?" Ziva asked. "We had given up."

"Some lessons that Suhayl taught me. He has a way of saying things that makes too much sense to deny...and pretty much made me feel stupid. I'm not guaranteeing that I'll tell you everything, but I'll try to tell you more than I have...if you decide you really want to know."

They were both quiet for a moment, but then, Ziva leaned over and kissed Tim gently on the cheek.

"We know how hard it is for you to say that. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Okay. Finish your breakfast and we'll get out of your hair," Tony said, a little gruffly. "At least until we figure out what kind of party we're going to have to celebrate that you're back."

"I don't need a party, Tony."

"So? Who said anything about _you_?" Tony asked and then grinned.

Tim smiled and ate his donut and drank his coffee. Then, Tony and Ziva went back to work, leaving Tim by himself again. He smiled in the silence.

"That was a good start to the day," he said.

...and then, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tamara managed to keep herself from running, but it was a near thing. From the moment she'd been called, all she wanted was to get to the hospital.

Finally, she was at the door to Bri's room. She paused and knocked.

"Come in."

She opened the door and there she was. Alive. Hurt, damaged, but alive. She hadn't lost her whole family. Brianna, her daughter, was alive.

"You're alive," Tamara said.

Brianna looked at her mother for a long time. Then, she nodded and started to cry. Tamara didn't wait. She went over to the bed and hugged her daughter tightly, holding her until she calmed enough to sleep. They didn't talk right now. Talking would come later. Right now, presence was all that mattered.

Then, she looked up at the window.

A familiar pair of black eyes met hers. They stared at each other. Then, Tamara looked down at her sleeping daughter and back up again.

He was gone.

But he _had_ been there.

That was something.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

_Three weeks later..._

"Why are you doing this, Tim?"

"Because you needed someone to, and I was willing to do it."

"And if he doesn't come?"

"He'll come."

"And if he decides to kill me?"

"Then, you get what you want, right?"

A soft laugh. "Yeah."

"All we can do is wait and see."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Det. Nick Burris had never been to CIA headquarters. He'd never _wanted_ to go to the CIA. However, when he'd been told to come, that it had something to do with the death of his wife, he couldn't say no. While he'd tried to move on, he could admit that he hadn't.

He was conducted through the halls to a nondescript office. There was a desk, two chairs, the door through which he'd entered and another door that was closed. That was all. He sat down on one chair and waited.

Then, the door behind him opened. He stood and turned around. The man who came in was limping a little. He had some recently-healed abrasions on his face.

...and black eyes. He'd never seen anyone with black eyes before. It was the strangest thing he'd ever seen on a regular human being.

"Have a seat, Det. Burris. There are some things we need to discuss."

"Who are you?"

"Wow. Someone who doesn't know me. I'm Director Levi Carew. That would make me the head of the CIA."

Nick was shocked. He'd heard of the man, of course, but he'd never have guessed that he was being summoned here to talk to him.

"So...what's this all about?"

"Before I tell you that, I must impress upon you how vital it is that, no matter your decision, you never speak of it outside of this building. My agreement to participate in this little event is completely contingent upon that agreement from you. Rest assured if you agree and then try to talk about it, you will never see the light of day again. I have the authority to do that. This is being done at the behest of someone else, but make no mistake, Det. Burris, I will not hesitate to punish you if you go that route. You can ask anyone who knows me. I do not accept betrayal once an agreement has been made. Understand?"

"Yes. I understand."

"Good. Now, the reason that you've been asked here, as you already know, has to do with the death of your wife. I know that you were given the runaround about the reasons for her death and about the man who did it."

"Yes."

"Well, the man who killed your wife can never be prosecuted for it because of what he was doing at the time."

"What was he doing that gets him off the hook?" Nick asked, affronted that justice would still remain unserved.

"He was tracking down a man to kill him. He succeeded, but only after killing your wife in the process. He is, or was, a CIA agent. He was operating illegally on U.S. soil, and because of that, he will never be prosecuted. I won't allow his loss of perspective to tarnish the CIA even more. It can't take it, and the reasons should not be bandied about the mainstream media who enjoys stirring as many pots as possible, whether they should or not. His actions cannot be known by the world at large. I'm sorry to say that your wife's death, and your subsequent grief, does not take precedence over maintaining secrecy, no matter what."

"So...you've told me. Now what?"

"Now, you have a decision to make," Carew said. He opened a drawer on the desk and pulled out a gun. He set it on the desk and pushed it toward Nick. "This gun is loaded. It is unregistered. The man who killed your wife is through that door." He pointed to the door on Nick's right. "If you want to kill him, you may do so with impunity. Officially, he's already dead, anyway. There will be no punishment for it. This is your only chance to get justice."

"And he's just...waiting for me to come in there? You expect me to believe that?"

Carew smiled, and Nick was surprised at how cold the smile was. It really expressed nothing.

"I don't lie, Detective. He is waiting in the room on the other side of that door. He is unarmed. He agreed to come."

"He _agreed_? Why would he do that?"

"You have the chance to ask him and the chance to kill him. If you do kill him, I would ask that you leave the gun in the room. It will all be cleaned up. No mess. No fuss."

Then, Carew got to his feet and started to leave the room. Nick sat, staring at the gun for a few seconds and then, he got up and turned around.

"After all this time, why now? Why are you doing this?"

Carew smiled again.

"I'm not. I'm just facilitating it. The man who set this up doesn't have the authority to do it himself, but I do."

"Why not? Who is he?"

"Someone who wishes he wasn't important, but is. ...and someone who cares about making things as right as it's possible for them to be even when justice can't be served."

"And right is letting me kill a man?"

"A life for a life. What could be more right than that? Why don't you go into that room and find out?"

Then, Carew left.

Nick stared at the gun again. He picked it up and checked it. Yes, it was loaded. He looked at the door he'd come in, at the door that supposedly led to his wife's killer.

He could no more pass up this chance than he could tear his own leg off. He held the gun in his hand and walked to the door. He opened it and stepped into the room.

Sitting on a chair in the middle of the otherwise-empty room was a man. A broken man, if Nick was any judge. He sat up when Nick came in, but he'd been slumped over, staring at the floor.

For a long moment, the two men just stared at each other. It was clear that this man was still recovering from something other than the murder of his wife. He was dressed immaculately, but it didn't hide the damage.

He stood up.

"I'm the man who killed your wife," he said in a voice that was deliberately emotionless and even.

"Why did you?" Nick asked.

"Because I lost track of myself. I was so desperate to get my target that I convinced myself any sacrifice was worth it. Your wife was helping me. She died because of that. I'm sorry. I can't take it back."

"And you think saying that is enough?"

"No, I don't. I don't think anything is enough. That's why I'm here. So you can kill me. An eye for an eye. I killed your wife. You should have the chance to kill me."

For one wild moment, Nick thought he could do it. He thought he could actually kill the unarmed man standing in front of him. The hand holding the gun twitched slightly. ...but then, he saw it. He saw it in the man's eyes. He _wanted_ Nick to kill him. He wanted to be dead. He wanted Nick to end it by killing him. Suicide by cop. He thought this was what he deserved and he would do nothing to stop him if he decided to kill him.

Nick knew that he'd teetered on the brink a few times in the year since his wife's death, but he'd managed to keep going and even find something more to make his life better. This man had been completely destroyed by what he'd done. He was desperate for something, anything to end his own pain. He didn't care about living or dying.

...and he thought about what his wife would have said about this situation. She would never want her husband to kill a man like this, nor would she want him to leave the man to suffer. If God had a punishment in mind, He would give it in His own time. She would want Nick to make things better if he could.

Finally, he shook his head.

"No. I'm not here to kill you."

"You should. It's what I deserve."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I'm just a cop. I don't choose what people deserve. I enforce the law. This is something I can't enforce. I'm not judge, jury and executioner, even if your director tried to make me that. I won't do it. I came to find out about why my wife died, not to commit murder."

For another eternity, the two men looked at each other. Then, the man stepped back, sank down onto the chair and started to cry. Nick watched him. A grown man brought to the point that he was sobbing because he wouldn't be killed.

He walked over to the man.

"I can't say that I forgive you because I'd be lying, but I can't say that I condemn you, either. I know my wife wouldn't want you to beat yourself up like this."

No response.

"Do you deserve all this? Maybe. I can't make that decision for you, but I can tell you this much. I'm here, looking at you, and I have no desire to see you dead. I don't know if it helps, but it's the truth. I got what I needed. I got the truth. You've confessed, and that's the best I can hope for...and the best you can hope for. If you were coming here to die, I'm sorry. I can't help you there."

He walked back to the door. Then, he paused and turned back. The man looked at him.

"I'm sorry for what you've suffered. That's not something I wish on anyone. Not even you. Good luck."

Then, he left the room the same way he came in. He set the unused gun on the desk and left. As he walked out of the building, he was surprised at how much better he felt about the situation. Knowing _why_ his wife had died and knowing that he himself no longer felt the need for vengeance changed his outlook. Did it make everything easy? No, but it made it better. Nick went back to his life, and found that he genuinely hoped the man he'd left in that room would turn out better than he was right now.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim didn't smile. He knew that Ray wouldn't be feeling gratitude right now, but he did feel some satisfaction.

"I told you," he said.

"Was it what you wanted?" Carew asked.

"Yes."

"Ray doesn't look particularly happy about it."

"Of course, he doesn't. Did you think that I was expecting perfection? There's no possibility of perfection in this situation. What there is is truth, reality...and a chance for more. The husband of the woman he killed looked into his eyes and didn't want to kill him." Tim looked at Carew. "Forgiveness is too much to ask for, but he got the next best thing. Pity."

"Pity is the next best thing?"

"Yes, because it shows a recognition of the reality of the situation."

"Have you been talking to Dr. Hicks?"

Tim actually did smile now. "Not about this. I can't tell you what to do with Ray now. I hope that you won't let this be the end of it, that you'll give Ray a fighting chance, but I know I can't make that decision. That's your thing, but Det. Burris got the closure he needed and Ray will see a hope for more. It's a start, and there has to be start in order for things to get better. It doesn't have to be good or even _right_ right now. It just has to be a beginning. I hope you'll let it be that."

Then, Tim walked away from Carew. This was the first time he'd seen him since coming back to the U.S., and he had no interest in hanging out. He still wasn't sure how he felt about everything he'd learned. He was just getting back to normal himself and didn't need the extra stress.

He went back into the room where Ray was still sitting. He looked up at Tim.

"You did this on purpose," he said. "You knew what he'd choose."

"I hoped that I was right, and I was," Tim said.

"Why?"

"Because, when you've sunk so low, you can only go so far down before you need help getting out. I've gone that low, and I always had people to help me. You haven't had that, and you need it."

"But now what?" Ray asked.

"I don't know," Tim said. "I'll be honest. I don't know what will happen next, but whatever does happen, remember that the one person who had a perfect right to want to kill you didn't do that when he had the chance. He didn't want you dead. He didn't think you deserved to die. That means something...and you have a chance to find out what it means."

Ray leaned back on the chair and he let out a strangled laugh.

"It's like I've been a part of a game, only someone else is controlling it all. I've just been moved around and around."

"That might still happen some. I don't know what Carew has in mind for you now...but he doesn't want you dead, either. You know that, if he did, you'd already be dead."

"Yeah."

"But you don't know if you're happy about that."

"No."

Tim held out his hand.

"Accept that you have a chance for something more...and do something with that chance."

Ray looked at Tim, looked at his hand and then, he nodded.

"You got a chance?"

"I did, and I was forced to use it, and now, I'm glad I did, but it took time."

Ray took Tim's hand and let Tim pull him to his feet.

"I don't know if I'm happy about it."

"I don't blame you, but just try."

"I guess I don't have much of a choice."

"You always have a choice," Tim said. "It's just a matter of how you use it."

They walked out of the room, and there was Carew, waiting. Ray looked at Carew and then looked at Tim. He shook Tim's hand.

"Whatever else happens, thank you," he said.

Tim just nodded and then watched as Ray walked away. Would this fix things? Probably not. It would take a lot of time, but maybe Ray would get that time. Maybe he could find a way to live with what he'd done.

What Tim knew for sure was that he'd done all he could do and now, it was no longer up to him. It seemed as if it was all over.

He could only hope that it was.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

_Two weeks later..._

Carew waited for admittance. Some people might be surprised at that, but he was a believer in protocol if the situation allowed for it. If it didn't, he would ignore anything and everything that might be a hindrance.

The situation allowed for it. So he was waiting.

"Director Carew?"

He looked at the aide and took a little bit of pleasure in the obvious discomfort he felt. People learned to mask their discomfort, but few ever really adjusted to his gaze. The same way it had been his whole life. If he couldn't change his eyes, he would use them to his best advantage. Keeping people unsettled tended to be a help, rather than a hindrance in this business.

"The President will see you now."

"Thank you."

He got up, masking the limp that still remained from his injury. He just didn't heal as quickly as he had when he was younger. There was still more pain than he would like to admit, but it was getting better. He was conducted into the President's office.

"Director Carew, have a seat. I don't have a lot of time, today," the President said, barely looking up from his work.

Carew smiled a little. "I don't need much time."

"What is it?"

"I just wanted to let you know in advance that I'm resigning as Director of the CIA."

Now, he knew he had the President's complete attention. His head came up and his eyes widened before he managed to reign in his shocked reaction.

"This seems...sudden."

"Only to you...well, and to everyone else. It's been in _my _plans ever since I started."

"What brought this on?"

"I did what I needed to do, and so there's no reason to stay on."

"What was it you needed to do?"

"Fix a mistake I made."

"When?"

"About thirty years ago."

The President looked at him very closely.

"You seem completely recovered from your accident."

"I am. Thank you."

Another long, careful look.

"I know you weren't in that car. I don't need to have you say yes or no. I already know that much. I don't know where you actually were. If what you were doing was important, then, I won't try to make you tell me what you were doing."

"You couldn't do that, anyway."

The President rolled his eyes. Carew knew he wasn't sure he liked having someone on staff who was so easy with his position.

"Maybe not. I suppose you have some idea of who should replace you?"

"Yes."

"Who would that be?"

"Deputy Director Roy Morgan. He did an excellent job while I was unavailable, made some good decisions that will never be known outside of his office and he already has the training required. I respect his ability."

"Some people might say that anyone _you_ would choose should be my last choice."

"People say a lot of things. I've learned not to pay attention to most of them, especially when they don't know the first thing about reality."

"Does he know about this?"

"No one knows about this except for me and now, you."

"Are you going to give me time to deal with it all?"

Carew smiled. "Depends on how much time you want. I'm not willing to stay for a long period. If you all can't get your act together, that's your problem, not mine."

"No loyalty to the people who work for you?"

"My loyalty should never be in question. I know how the political machine works. You people don't tend to get things done unless you have to. If I resign, effective immediately, you'll get going much more quickly than you would have if I said I'd stay on until you found a replacement. You'll start to talk and bicker and it will take forever. You'll end up with a politically-acceptable, but completely-incompetent fool who will only get more agents killed and allow the CIA reputation to fall even further. You already know who I think would be a good replacement. I'll give you a month to agree with me."

"A month?"

"Not a minute longer."

"All right. One more question."

"Yes?"

"Timothy McGee."

"I see no reason to stop the protection for now. I'll be sure to tell Roy about it."

"You're assuming that he'll be chosen."

"Yes, I am, because you tend to be smarter than the average politician. You have been known to listen to reason on occasion."

"Thank you," the President said drily. "I can't control the Senate, and they have to approve."

"Roy is singularly inoffensive. He hasn't upset anyone on either side of the aisle. He's not controversial at all. People have underestimated him. I underestimated him. They won't know what hit them."

"You sound like you're excited about the prospect."

"I am. Politicians think they can control people, but when it's someone who has about as much authority as you do, he can only be controlled if he lets himself be controlled. That goes for most people. If that's everything, Mr. President..."

"Yes."

Carew got to his feet and headed for the door.

"Director Carew."

He stopped and turned back.

"Yes?"

"From what I know, you have given most of your life to the CIA. Was it worth it?"

"Considering what I've accomplished? Yes."

"No regrets?"

Carew smiled slightly. "None that I'll share."

The President stood.

"I know you have your share of enemies, but I will be sad to see you go. You definitely have kept things interesting."

"I try to do so."

Carew turned and left the office. There wasn't much left to do.

He was pretty sure Roy would be surprised.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"How are you feeling, Tim?" Dr. Hicks asked.

"Physically or otherwise?" Tim asked.

"Either."

"Physically, I think I'm finally back to normal after going out there. I really had to put too much pressure on my feet. My physical therapist says that I'm lucky I didn't make things worse, but he thinks that it's a good sign that I could recover."

"I'm glad."

"Otherwise...some things are better than they were, but I do still have my bad days where I can't think of anything but the past."

"That will always be the case, Tim," Dr. Hicks said. "Bad memories don't go away. They just fade a bit."

"Yeah, I know."

"Are you keeping up with letting your friends ask questions?"

"Mostly. Sometimes, I just have to tell them no because _I_ don't want to talk about it."

"That's okay, too."

Tim smiled. "Yeah. They even let me, most of the time."

"Have you accepted your freedom?"

"Mostly. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don't know if that's going to change anytime soon. I've lived too long with something hanging over my head. I don't know how to _not_ have that."

"That's also acceptable."

"Now that I don't have any kind of real connection to the CIA, do you still want to keep dealing with me?" Tim asked.

Dr. Hicks smiled. "I think you should keep on with therapy, no matter who it's with, and you still have quite a bit of classified information in your head. So as long as you are willing to keep this up, I think it's a good idea."

"Okay. I just wanted to be sure that this wasn't going to be a problem."

"Not on my end."

"Okay."

Tim leaned back in the chair and took a breath. It felt like he'd been rushing and rushing ever since he'd got back. With the exception of the first two days when he just lay around at home, he had been going to therapy, going to work, going to Dr. Hicks, worrying about Ray, making time to hang out with his friends. Tony had carried through on the party he'd threatened. It hadn't been as wild as Tim had expected, but it was a part of the rushing. For a few seconds, he just sat where he was and tried to get back to that quiet, calm feeling he'd had that first night back.

"I'm having a hard time getting back into the flow of things. I feel like everything is rushed and forced."

"Is it?"

"I don't know. So much of what I was doing when I got back was focused on setting things up for Ray."

"Did you do that for yourself or for him?"

"Both," Tim said, honestly. "I wanted to see someone in my situation get out of it, and I wanted that for Ray, too. Part of me doesn't care whether or not he deserves it. I just want to lessen what he was feeling."

"And now?"

"Now, I hope it made a difference. Some of it has to be on his side. I know that myself. He has to be willing to fight for it, but he has a chance to fight and that means something. I probably won't ever know, but I'm glad he has the chance."

Dr. Hicks got a little smile on his face. Tim raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"I can't say much, Tim. I'll just say this. He _is_ starting to fight."

Tim's eyes widened. He opened his mouth to ask, but Dr. Hicks shook his head. Tim realized that he couldn't ask. He wouldn't get any more answers. But the idea that Ray might be getting real help made Tim feel a lot better about it.

"And, Tim, it means something that you've fought...and won."

"I don't always feel like I've won."

"But you have. You have a life that's your own. You have friends who support you. You have a job, and you have freedom. You've won. That doesn't make it easy. It just means that you don't have to worry about winning the battle. You have."

"So...what now?"

"Now, we just keep on. Given your past experiences, I think it's a good idea to have someone who makes it necessary for you to talk when it's hard. You have a tendency to keep things inside. You're learning to overcome that, but I'm here to make sure you don't backslide too far."

"Okay." Tim stood up and Dr. Hicks did the same.

"And one more thing."

"What?"

"On a completely personal note, I'm glad that you were able to fix whatever mistake it was that led to _my_ life being saved. I know I wasn't supposed to be. I don't know the details, but I do know that I wasn't the reason they were there. That I was still saved anyway probably led to what you were called on to do, and I don't know how many sacrifices were required for my life. I am grateful for it, all the more because I know that the price for my safety was too high."

"No price is too high for a life."

"I'm sure Carew would agree with you. Have you heard from him?"

"Not in the last two weeks. I'd like to keep it that way."

Dr. Hicks laughed. "You don't have to talk to him on my account."

"Good."

"Just keep on, Tim. That will mean more than you think."

"I'll try. See you next week."

Tim left, thinking about what Dr. Hicks had said. Yes, it had been a high price that Carew had been willing to pay to save one man. In fact, he had spent a good part of his life preparing to make up for it, it seemed. And then, how much he was willing to give to stop one man. No matter how little Tim liked the man, he could appreciate that Carew went all out when he decided something was necessary. There were no halfways.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Two days later..._

"Rest on your laurels, Tim," Tony said. "We'll make the lunch run while you bask in the fact that you caught the guy."

"I didn't. I just found his assets."

"And made it impossible for him to get to them," Ziva said. "If Tony is paying, you should let him. He does it so rarely."

"Hey! That's so not true!" Tony protested.

"Just get me something good. I don't care if it's healthy. I just want it to taste good. No camel milk, no bugs."

"Well, that's easy," Tony said, laughing. "It'll be good. Promise."

Tim waved them away and leaned back. He knew they were still taking it easy on him, making sure that he had the time to recover completely. He felt mostly recovered, physically. It was only a twinge here and there. Still, he could admit that he appreciated it, anyway.

His phone rang while he was trying to rest on his laurels. He shrugged and answered. Basking wasn't all that much fun to do alone.

"McGee."

"_Agent McGee, Director Shephard would like to speak to you if you have the time."_

"Sure. I'll be right up, Cynthia."

"_Good."_

Tim hung up. He hadn't really had much of a chance to speak to Cynthia since coming back. She had checked on him, made sure he was all right, but other than that, he hadn't seen much of her. He went up to the office and there she was, working as efficiently as ever.

"You can go right in."

"Okay. Cynthia?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for everything you did while I was out there."

"I didn't do much."

"Yes, you did. We both know that you did. You made a sacrifice, going back into a place you didn't want to go, and you did it for me. Thank you."

Cynthia smiled. "I would do it again...but only if it was necessary."

"Hopefully, it won't be," Tim said. "I'm not planning on needing it...but if I ever do, I'd feel better knowing you were on the other end."

Cynthia just nodded. "The director is waiting, Tim."

Tim nodded back and went into the office.

"Tim, I wanted to give you plenty of time to get back to your normal routine before I started trying to get answers. Have a seat."

Tim sat down.

"I can tell you some things, but parts of this are not classified, Director. They don't exist."

"I understand. As much as it's possible, I do understand. I won't try to get you to tell what you can't tell. What _can_ you tell me?"

"We were successful. I've paid my debt. I owe the CIA nothing. I owe Carew nothing."

"Good. Of all the results of that situation, that's the part I'm most glad to see gone," Jenny said. "Tim, what you've gone through these last few years has changed more than just you. It's changed all of us. I don't know what our lives would have been like if it hadn't been for this mess, but I'm grateful that you've come out of it as strong as you are."

"I don't feel very strong all the time, Director."

"I don't blame you for that. Is there anything else you can tell me?"

Tim thought about it. Because of the nature of the mission, the fact that Carew was determined to keep it from ever being known, Tim felt he had to respect that.

"There was a man that was part of the mission. He knew who I was on sight. That means that people are still aware of me outside of the federal agencies."

"Unfortunate, but to be expected, I'm afraid. What did Carew have to say about that?"

"That I was only as important as people made me. The longer I go without being involved in anything, the less important I'll be. People will forget about what I can do."

"True, but it may take a long time, given the nature of your skills. What about the CIA protection?"

"As far as I've seen, that's continuing."

"Are you all right with that?"

"Yeah. I've accepted it as a necessity."

"Good. Anything else?"

Tim smiled a little. "Only that I've found that there are really great people everywhere in the world."

Jenny smiled back. "A good observation to make. Nothing else?"

"I don't think so, ma'am. I just don't feel that it's a good idea. I haven't told anyone, not even Gibbs."

"Has he pushed?"

"No. Not at all."

"All right. I haven't had anyone pushing to get at you, locally. It appears they took the President's warning seriously this time. I haven't had any requests for your assistance. So, for now, plan on just being an NCIS agent."

"That sounds great," Tim said. "I can't think of anything I want more."

"All right. Get back to work, then, Agent McGee. If anything comes up, let me know."

"I will."

Tim hurried out of the office, smiled at Cynthia as he went and then grinned as he saw Tony and Ziva down below, clearly looking for him. It would take time before they stopped worrying about his sudden disappearances. That was the way things would have to be.

"You guys were fast," he said as he came down the stairs.

They almost managed to keep the relief off their faces.

"We decided to raid the food court instead of going off the Yard," Tony said. "What were you doing in the upper regions?"

"Giving a report to Director Shephard. She's waited until now to ask me anything."

"What did you tell her?"

"Nothing that I haven't already told you guys. Promise."

"Then, we'll let you eat."

"Thanks," Tim said.

He took the bag that Tony gave him and sat down at this desk. For the time being, everything was normal...and that was wonderful.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

_One month later..._

Tim was in the park, watching Jethro frolick happily after the birds. His current protection detail was sitting unobtrusively a few yards away. He knew they were there, but he didn't spent much time worrying about it. He had enough to think about as it was.

So, when someone came up behind him, he didn't even flinch.

"A little overconfident, aren't you?"

Tim suppressed a grimace. It had been almost two months since he'd heard from Carew. He'd hoped to keep that trend up.

"No. I can't live my life always worried about being attacked. I know I have people watching my back. If they let you get close, I figure I can be pretty confident that it's okay. How's Bri?"

"Recovering. I haven't seen her since she was released from the hospital. She may not want to come back to the CIA after what she went through. She wouldn't be the first."

"But she's all right?"

"Eventually, she will be. Her mother is seeing to that."

"Okay. What do you want?"

"Did she ever say anything about me?"

"No. Should she have?"

"Guess not." It was probably too much to hope that Brianna might feel some regret for what she'd put Tim through all those years ago. She would see it as her job and nothing personal. Maybe even when she went through something like it herself.

Carew walked around the bench and sat down without invitation.

"I thought you might like to know that, as of tomorrow, there will be a new CIA director."

Tim didn't think that he could possibly be more surprised.

"You getting fired?" he asked.

"No. I'm resigning."

"Why?" That _was_ more surprising. Carew leaving willingly was strange to consider. He never would have thought he'd leave the CIA alive.

"Because the reason I became the director no longer exists."

"You became the director of the CIA because of Higgins?"

"Yes. I knew, when I chose to save Woodrow Hicks, that I was making a mistake. I knew that I could be putting the entire country in danger to save one insignificant man. I shouldn't have done it. His value was negligible. I decided to do it, to value one life more than the country, and I knew that I'd have to be willing to pay the price for that. No matter what the price might be."

"You had to run the CIA to do that?"

Carew smiled his same cold smile. "Not necessarily, but I knew that if I was the director, I would be able to do what was necessary, no matter what it was. If I was lower, that might not be possible. I was hired to change the CIA. That could have been done in a number of ways, but as the director, I could kill two birds with one stone. I've changed the CIA to my satisfaction and I've fixed my mistake. I'm finished."

Tim was silent for a moment. Carew had been willing to destroy his whole life just to make up for what he saw as a mistake. He had done it, not because he _knew_ it was necessary, but because it _might_ be necessary. It was a level of devotion to an ideal that went all the way through naivete and trawled in the strange unknown waters on the other side. What it was, Tim couldn't say, but it was...shocking.

"And my watchers?"

"The new director has instructions to keep the protection going for now. He will evaluate as time goes on."

"Is that all?"

"No. It's not."

"What more is there?"

"I owe you."

Tim shook his head, instantly. "No, you don't. I paid the debt I owed you. We're even."

Carew shook his head, calmly. "No, we're not. The debt you paid was done by helping me find Higgins and deal with him. Finding and saving my daughter was above and beyond that."

"I don't care. It was part of the operation."

"No, it wasn't. You and I both know that it wasn't. I couldn't have allowed it to be part, but I knew that you would insist that it was. That's why you had to be there. I told you before that I never back out on a deal. I also never back out on a debt. You can choose to use it or not. I won't be as valuable as I was, given my upcoming change in occupation, but the fact remains that I owe you for the life of my daughter. She's the only child I have left. There is no price that can be put on a life."

_Except another life, like you did for Dr. Hicks,_ Tim thought. He could almost understand Carew's reasoning, but it was still frustrating.

He sighed. "Why are you doing this? You know that I have no interest in ever collecting anything from you."

"Because it would be dishonest to hide it."

"No, it wouldn't. I told you that I don't consider us to be anything but even."

Carew laughed. "Even if I didn't owe you, we both know that we'll never be even. I've exploited your situation far too many times for that to be a possibility." There was no apology, and Tim didn't expect it.

"I don't care. It's in the past, and I don't have any interest in rehashing it."

"That's fine."

Carew looked out on the park, and suddenly, perhaps for the first time since Tim had known him, looked a little pensive. Or maybe the second. There was that moment on the plane when the operation had begun.

"Life is a game, Agent McGee. It's always been a game. It always will be. There's a beginning and there's an ending. There are rules. We set up the pieces. We choose the sides. What we often fail to realize is that the only real player is ourselves. There's no real opponent, no matter what we think. We play against ourselves, and that means that either we both win or we both lose. There's no other possible outcome. The biggest lie anyone can tell himself is that he can defeat himself and come out the winner. That's impossible. If one side loses, the game is lost."

Tim looked at him.

"And have you won or lost?"

"Oh, I lost a long time ago, but it was intentional, although I admit that I didn't realize what I was doing at the beginning. I made a choice to lose."

"And now?"

Carew smiled again, still the same empty smile. "Now, I'm going to see if the loss was irrevocable or if I have a chance to rebuild. You can't ever go back, but maybe there's a chance to go forward."

"What does that mean for you?" Tim asked, curious in spite of himself.

"It means that I try to rebuild the bridges I burned in spite of the fact that my intention was to burn them beyond repair. Years ago, my ex-wife and I made a deal that we'd try to rebuild if I ever had room in my life for more than the CIA. That deal may not still be in effect, but I'd be foolish if I didn't see if it was a possibility."

"Does _she _know about this?"

Carew looked at Tim and then, looked back over his shoulder. Tim followed his gaze to a woman standing alone on the sidewalk. She looked to be about the same age as Carew, although her expression was infinitely more open than his. She didn't try to approach, and Tim said nothing, although their eyes met for just a moment.

"I think she does," Carew said.

He got to his feet and started to walk away. Tim watched him go, and then, the same feeling that had made it impossible for Tim to hate the man as he wished he could made him call out.

"Levi!"

Carew turned.

"Good luck."

The quirk of a smile wasn't quite so empty as he nodded once and walked toward the woman. Tim watched him go. While he didn't think he'd ever understand what motivated Carew to make the decisions he did, he could honestly say that he hoped there was redemption even for him.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I didn't expect you to be here," Carew said.

"I wasn't sure I wanted to come," Tamara said.

"Why did you?"

They started walking together.

"I'm a sucker for hopeless cases."

"That certainly would explain such an irrational decision."

"Why did you ask me to come, then?"

"I told you that I always felt it, even if I couldn't show it. That hasn't changed."

Tamara stopped him and turned him toward her. She looked deeply into his eyes, into his black eyes. She had always been the only one who wasn't bothered by them.

"You're right. It hasn't changed."

"It's up to you. I make no guarantees. It would be dishonest to try to do that."

"I know, but something _has_ changed already."

"What's that?"

"You left the CIA."

They started walking again.

"That doesn't mean that you weren't right before. It may have changed me too much."

"I'm willing to try."

"Are you sure?"

"No, but I think I am. Brianna isn't going back to the CIA."

"I knew that was a possibility, but she may change her mind when she recovers fully."

"I think she means it. After what happened to her out there. You know how bad it was, Levi."

"I think she means it, now, but we mean things when the chips are down that we don't when they aren't."

Tamara smiled ruefully. "And you still don't lie."

Carew glanced at her and decided to confess to the one lie he'd told. Tim had been right. He _had_ saved up all the times when he could have lied to tell one whopper. The only thing was that he'd already done it. It wasn't coming in the future. It had happened in the past.

"But I did lie once."

"To whom?"

"To you."

"When?"

"You even knew it. You just didn't realize it."

"When?"

"You asked me if I would have said no, if I had known what deciding to join the CIA would do."

"And you told me you would have done it, anyway."

"Yes."

"That was a lie?"

"Yes."

"Why then?"

"Could you have left if you thought I regretted it?"

"No."

"That's why. What I was doing required isolation. I pushed you as far away as I could."

"What if it had been too far?"

"I'm not sure it hasn't been."

"Neither am I. What if I had said no?"

"Then, I would find something else. With my background, it wouldn't be hard. Too bad, but tolerable."

Tamara sighed. Carew knew why.

"I may have to do that, anyway, but I don't need the money. I've done very well."

"Levi, how long will it take you to drop the mask?"

"I can't tell you what I don't know. It may not be worth the effort it'll take from you to get rid of it," he said, as honest as ever.

"I love who you were, Levi. Because of that, I can't walk away, now...even if it fails. I would never forgive myself if I didn't try. You left yourself alone. I never wanted you to be alone."

"Then, we'll try."

They walked out of the park together and then went their separate ways. It wouldn't happen fast, if it happened at all.

But it was worth a shot.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Two days later..._

Gibbs could see that Tim had something that was bothering him. He'd been a little bit withdrawn the last couple of days. It wasn't overly troubling so far as Gibbs could tell, but he could see that it was there. He covered it well when the others were around. They had assumed any different behavior was due to the sudden announcement of Carew's retirement. From what Gibbs could tell, Levi Carew had all but vanished from the public eye as soon as the announcement had been made. In fact, he hadn't even been present when the President had announced the promotion of Deputy Director Roy Morgan to Acting Director until the Senate could approve him. Tony and Ziva had expressed worry about what Carew might do behind the scenes, but if Gibbs was any judge, that didn't worry Tim at all. He'd had a different view of Carew ever since he'd come back, and it was related to that, Gibbs was sure.

When he knew people were around, Tim would act as normal as possible, but at the moment, he didn't realize Gibbs was watching him. He was sitting at his computer, staring blankly at the monitor and he seemed to be chewing the inside of his cheek.

Gibbs decided to walk in and see if Tim tried to hide his anxiety.

Tim straightened and pretended everything was fine. Gibbs would let him keep his secrets if he wanted to. He'd learned the problems of pushing too hard...and not pushing enough.

He sat down and started working. Tony and Ziva were down with Abby, giving Tim a reprieve from her hovering.

Then, he sensed someone standing in front of his desk. He looked up.

"Boss, could I come over and use your tools tonight?"

"Of course."

"Thanks."

Tim walked back to his desk and sat down.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

"What's the problem, Tim?"

Tim looked up from the stack of boards he'd been staring at for the last ten minutes. He hadn't done anything when he'd come. Gibbs had started working, letting Tim decide when he'd talk, but he seemed to need a little bit of a push.

Tim didn't reply.

"Is it Carew?"

"Yeah, but not what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking?" Gibbs asked, curious about what Tim _didn't_ think the problem was.

"What Tony and Ziva are thinking, that I should be worried that he'll pop up again and force me to do something else."

"That doesn't worry you?"

"No. Carew is done with that. I've learned not to make deals with him, and he won't try to trick me that way. He's left the CIA. I knew he was leaving before everyone else did. He told me."

"When?"

"A few days ago, in the evening when I'd taken Jethro out for a walk. He told me that he was retiring, and that I could still depend on CIA protection. I'm not worried about that."

"That actually wasn't what I was thinking, either."

Tim looked up from the wood.

"What were _you_ thinking?"

"That you had something you hadn't told anyone."

Tim smiled and nodded.

"Yeah. I haven't. I probably should have, but I don't know if I want to deal with the reactions. There's been enough going on that I just want things to be normal. I don't know if I can depend on that happening if I start talking about it."

"Try me."

Tim sighed. "Carew says he owes me."

"Owes you? For what?"

"I helped save his daughter, and I wouldn't let us leave without trying to save her. He said that there was no way he could have let himself save her, and he knew that there was no way I could intentionally leave her. That's why he wanted it to be _me_ out there, not anyone else. He knew that I would make sure she was saved if it was possible."

"He knows you pretty well."

Tim laughed a little and went back to staring at the wood.

"I wish he didn't. But I told him he didn't owe me, that I had no interest in collecting. He said that it didn't matter. He wouldn't be honest if he didn't tell me."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing. I can't. I don't want to ask for his help, and I have no intention of doing so."

"But?"

"But it still bothers me that I can't get away from him...even in the abstract. It feels like, as long as there's something like that out there, I could still get pulled back into that gray area that I hate so much. I just don't want to have to deal with it."

"Sounds like he's not giving you much choice."

"He's not."

"Maybe _he_ doesn't want to give up that connection."

Tim raised his eyebrow skeptically. "What? Why?"

"Maybe you're the closest thing to a friend he has."

"I don't even like him!"

"But you know more about him than anyone else does...and you said you can't hate him. That might be the best he can hope for."

Tim sighed again. "Maybe you're right."

"That doesn't mean you have to do anything about it."

"Doesn't it?"

Gibbs chuckled. "No. It doesn't. Just because it's what _he_ wants, doesn't mean it has to be what you want. You're not forced to have friends, you know."

Tim smiled sheepishly. "I'm too used to being forced to do things, I guess."

"Get over it. You don't have to do anything but your job, now."

"It sounds nice, but...it doesn't really seem like a possibility, Boss."

Gibbs nodded and handed him a saw.

"Then, forget about that and build something."

"I don't know what to make," Tim said. "I really don't have any ideas right now."

"How about a box?"

"I've already done that. I think I can do more than a box, now, Boss. I mean, I'm no expert, but I'm not that bad, am I?"

"Didn't say you were, but you can also do a box."

Tim looked at the boards again. Then, he looked at Gibbs.

Gibbs shrugged. "You've been using that box you made as a metaphor. It's not bad, but it could be better. Make a better metaphor."

Tim looked at the wood and then looked at Gibbs once more. He smiled a little.

"Maybe I could make one that uses all the same wood...and has straight sides. ...and doesn't take as long."

"Maybe you could."

"Maybe it would look really nice. Maybe it would be beautiful instead of just not ugly."

"Maybe it would."

Gibbs turned back to his own work and left Tim to do what he wanted. Was it all over? Sounded like it wasn't, but at this point, it was on Tim to do something about it, not on Carew to call on him to do something. Tim had the power, not Carew, and that was a good change.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim looked at the wood Gibbs had supplied. It looked really expensive. He'd got some high-quality wood this time. Part of him thought that it was silly to focus on building a box when he had this problem he was stressing about.

...but most of him liked the idea of having something he could build and enjoy for what it was. No complications, no underlying meanings (unless he wanted to give it a meaning). It was just a project that he built for fun.

It was just part of his life, a life that had become his own once again, after years of being in the power of others.

He picked up a length of dark walnut and then, he smiled.

"Let's see..."

FINIS!


End file.
